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HISTORY’S MOST 
FAMOUS WORDS 


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War to the Knife. 


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_ ■ 






HISTORY’S MOST 
FAMOUS WORDS 

When, Where, Why, and by Whom 
Were Used Great Sayings 
that have passed into 
Common Speech 


By 

MRS. CHETWOOD SMITH 

■'■VlVv* * V>v* S ^ 

V \ l> 

Illustrated from Famous Paintings 

d 

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j » * 



BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 
















Copyright, 1926, 

By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 


All Rights Reserved 
History’s Most Famous Words 



Printed in U. S. A. 


IRorwooD IPrcss 

BERWICK & SMITH CO. 
Norwood, Mass. 


SEP 2 3 76 


© Cl A950153 

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; 


In Every Life are Moments of Drama . 

Lips May Utter Words Whose Echoes Shall 
Reach Down the Paths of the Years. 

In These Sketches, Attempt is Made to Paint 
Dramatic Moments in Important Lives; to Per¬ 
petuate Some of the Ringing Words of History . 










CONTENTS 


“ Put Your Trust in God, But Keep 

Your Powder Dry ” - - - 1 

Oliver Cromwell, 1599-1658 

To his troops when they were about to 
cross a river to attack the enemy. 

“ Please Stand Out of My Sunlight ” 3 

Diogenes of Sinope, 412-323 b. c. 

Said to King Alexander the Great. 

“ If Thy Heart Fail Thee, Do Not 

Climb at All ”.5 

Queen Elizabeth, 1533-1603 

Said in reply to Sir Walter Raleigh. 

“ Give Me a Place to Stand, and I 

Will Move the World ” - - 7 

Archimedes, 287-212 b. c. 

A scientific statement which he made in a whim¬ 
sical manner. 

“ Along This Track of Pathless 
Ocean It Is My Intention to 

Steer ”. 9 

Christopher Columbus, 1451—1506 

Said on his voyage of discovery to America. 

• • 

Vll 


CONTENTS 


Vlll 

“ O Rider of the Grey Horse! ” - - 11 

Sukta, a Rajput Prince 
About 1556. 

“ Don’t Give Up the Ship! ” - - 13 

Captain James Lawrence, 1781-1813 
During the War of 1812. 

“ The Die is Cast ”.15 

Julius Cesar, 102-44 b. c. 

Said on crossing the River Rubicon. 

“ Fortune Lies in the Gutter ” - - 17 

James Monroe, Fifth President of the 
United States, 1758-1831. 

“ He Wondered at the Excellency of 

the Shoe and Pretty Foot ” - 19 

Old Chronicle of Psammeticus I, King of 
Egypt, 664-610 b. c. 

“ Gentlemen of the French Guard, 

Fire First!”.21 

Lord Charles Hay, Lieutenant of the 
First Grenadier Guards 

Said at the Battle of Fontenoy, May, 

1745. 


CONTENTS 


IX 

“ I Would Rather Have Written 
That Poem, Gentlemen, Than 
Take Quebec To-morrow ” - -23 

Major-General James Wolfe, 1727-1759 

The night before he was killed on the Plains 
of Abraham. 

“ I Feel the Flowers Growing Oyer 

Me ”.25 

John Keats, 1797-1821 
Said just before he died. 

“ I Will Not Stay in the Ship, Un¬ 
less You Would Force Me ” - 27 

Philip Staffe 

Said to the mutineers of Henry Hudson’s 
ship, Discovery , June, 1611 

“ In the Name of the Great Jehovah 
and the Continental Con¬ 
gress!” - ------ 

Ethan Allen, American Patriot, 1739- 
1789 

At the surrender of Ticonderoga 

“ He Was Buried Beside His Wife in 

the Taj Mahal ” - - - - 31 

Said of Shah Jehan, a Great Mogul, 
1592-1666. 





x CONTENTS 

-“Damn the Torpedoes! Full Speed 

Ahead!” - - v - - - -33 

David Glasgow Farragut, American Ad¬ 
miral, 1801-1870 

At the naval engagement of Mobile Bay. 

“ A Song Which Nobody in That 
Country Knew Except They 
Two ”-------85 

Concerning King Richard I of England, 
1157-1199. 

“ Those Traitorous Sicilians ” - - 37 

Charles of Anjou, King of Naples and 
Sicily, 1220-1285 

Concerning the Sicilian Vespers. 

“ Then Sell Your Lives Dearly! ” - 39 

General William Eaton, 1764-1811 
Said to his command in the Libyan Desert. 

“ His Ship Was Called the Great 

Dragon ”. 41 

Boat of Sweyn, King of the Danes 
Said about 1000. 

“ These are My Jewels! ” - - 43 

Cornelia, Wife of Tiberius Gracchus 

Said of her sons, called “ The Gracchi,” 
about 153 b. c. 


CONTENTS 


xi 


“ Thy Need is Greater Than Mine ” - 45 

Sir Philip Sidney, 1554-1586 

Said when he gave his cup of water to a 
dying soldier. 

“ I Propose to Fight It Out on This 

Line if It Takes All Summer! ” 47 

Lieutenant-General Ulysses S. Grant, 
1822-1885 

At Spottsylvania Court-house. 

“ Last Night There Were Four 

Marys ".49 

Concerning the Ladies in Waiting of 
Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, 1542- 
1587. 

“ Sister Anne, Sister Anne, Do You 

See Any One Coming? ” - - 51 

Wife of Giles de Laval, the Real Blue¬ 
beard, 1396-1440. 

“ Whom He Defeated in Twelve 

Great Battles ” - - - - 53 

Concerning Arthur Pendragon, King of 
Britain, About 500. 

“ On Me Be the Suffering ” - - - 55 

Zahir-ud-din Mahomed, Called Babar, 
1483-1530. 


CONTENTS 


• • 

Xll 

“ Not a Drum Was Heard, Not a Fu¬ 
neral Note ” . 57 

Said of the Burial of Sir John Moore, 
1761-1809. 

“ There Lies the Only Maypole in 

New England ” - 59 

John Endicott, Governor of the Massa¬ 
chusetts Bay Colony, 1588-1665. 

“ He Has Kept the Fire Burning All 

the Way!” .61 

Said of Pazzi, the Fool, One of the 
Founders of the Great Pazzi Family 
of Italy. 

“ An Oppressive Government Is More 

to Be Feared Than a Tiger ” - 63 

Confucius, the Great Sage of China, 550— 

478 b. c. 

“If We Must Fight, Let Us Fight 

for Ourselves! ” - 65 

Spartacus, Leader of the Gladiatorial 
War Against Rome, 73 b. c. 

“ We Have Met tpie Enemy and They 

Are Ours ” -.67 

Lieutenant Oliver Hazard Perry, 1785- 
1819 

At the Battle of Lake Erie. 



CONTENTS 


• • • 
xiu 

“ I, Too, Am a Painter! ” - - - - 69 

Antonio Allegri, Called Correggio, 

1494-1534 

Said on first seeing a painting of Raph¬ 
ael’s. 

“ This Little Rivulet Yields Its Dis¬ 
tant Tribute to the Parent 

Ocean ”.71 

In Diary of Lewis and Clark Expedition, 

1805. 

“ War to the Knife ” - 73 

Jose de Palafox, Duke of Saragossa, 1780- 
1847 

Answer to the French General at the 
Siege of Saragossa. 

“ Will You Join My Regiment? ” - 75 

Colonel Jenkins, Commanding the Guides, 

1878 

Said to Afghan warrior. 

“ Not Angles—But Angels ” - - 77 

Pope Gregory the First, Surnamed the 
Great, 540-604 

Said in the slave market at Rome. 

“ Eclipse First—Tile Rest No¬ 
where! ”.79 

Colonel Dennis O’Kelly, 1720-1787 
Said at Epsom Races. 




XIV 


CONTENTS 


“ I Will Give Way to Custom ” - - 81 

Crown Prince Frederick William of Prus¬ 
sia, 1770-1840 

Said to the Mistress of Robes. 

“ A Subterranean Avenue Leads 
to Chandra-Gupta’s Sleeping- 
Chamber!” .83 

Said by Chanakya, a Brahman 
About 321 b. c. 

“ If the People Lack Bread, Why 

Not Give Them Cake? ” - - 85 

Queen Marie Antoinette of France, 
1755-1793 

Said at the beginning of the French 
Revolution. 

“ This Journey Stands Alone in His¬ 
tory ” - - - 87 

Said of the Burial Journey of David Liv¬ 
ingstone, 1813-1873. 

“ Press Where Ye See My White 

Plume Shine! ” - 89 

King Henry IV of France, 1553-1610 
Said at the Battle of Ivry. 

“Where Are They? ” - - - - 91 

Said by British Sailors of the United 
States Ship Constitution 
War of 1812. 


CONTENTS 


xv 


“ The Reflection of What Man Has 
Done Abides Forever in the 

Light ”.93 

Zoroaster, About 1000 b. c. 

One of his sayings. 

“I’ll Believe in the Mermaid, and 

Hire It ”.95 

Phineas Taylor Barnum, 1811-1891 
Said on contracting for the Fiji Mermaid. 

“ Now Is Mortimer Lord of This 

City ”.97 

Jack Cade, d. 1450 

Said as he struck his sword on London 
Stone. 

“ To-morrow’ll Be Another Day! ” - 99 

Valdemar IV, King of Denmark, 1320- 
1375 

One of his habitual sayings. 

“ Brag of Your Catch of Fish Again ” 101 
Said by Skipper Ireson 

Last part of Seventeenth Century. 

“ The Lions Spoiled Them All—The 

Best Dog Died the Next Day ” 103 

Old Chronicle of the Lions of the Tower 
of London 

In Sixteenth Century. 


XVI 


CONTENTS 


“ There Is but One God, and Mahomet 

Is His Prophet ” - 105 

Salutation to Founder of the Religion 
of Islam 

In Seventh Century. 

“ When the Ravens Cease to Fly 
Round the Mountain, Barba- 
rossa Shall Awake ” - - - 107 

Old Legend Concerning Frederick I, Ger¬ 
man Emperor, 1123-1190. 

“ One oe the Books was Covered With 

Blood ” - 109 

Said of a Copy-book Belonging to Lady 
Russell’s Little Son 

In Sixteenth Century. 

“ Know Thyself ”.Ill 

Socrates, Athenian Philosopher, 469- 
399 b. c. 

One of his precepts. 

“ I Solemnly Vow That I Will Not 
Cut or Comb My Hair Until 
That Day ”.113 

Harold, King of Norway, 850-933. 

“ Through This Sign Thou Shalt 

Conquer”.115 

Vision Appearing to Constantine I, Sur- 
named u The Great,” Roman Emperor, 
288-337. 




CONTENTS xvii 

“ She Has Been Transferred to the 

Virgin Choir in Heaven ” - - 117 

Letter of King Edward III About His 
Daughter, Princess Joanna, 1333-1348. 

“ I Will Try to Be Good ” - 119 

Queen Victoria of England, 1819-1901 
On hearing of her accession to the throne. 

“ Our Right Is in Our Swords ” - - 121 

Brennus, King of the Gauls 

Said to Roman ambassadors, 390 b. c. 

“ Their Skins Went to Bind the Sec¬ 
ond Edition of His Book ” - - 123 

Thomas Carlyle, 1795-1881 

Said concerning the French Revolution. 

“ The First Words He Utters to You 

Shall Be Welsh!” - 125 

Edward I, King of England, 1239-1307 
Said to Welsh chieftains. 

“ We Are Too Much Gentlemen to 
Take a Thing a Gentleman 
Values So”.127 

Dick Turpin, 1706—1739 

Said on returning a mourning ring. 


CONTENTS 


xviii 

“ May This Hand Never Perish ” - 129 

Aidan, Bishop of Lindisfaene 

Said to King Oswald of Northumbria, 
about 642. 

“ Sheridan Twenty Miles Away ” - 131 

Said of Philip Heney Sheeidan, Ameeican 
Geneeal, 1881-1888. 

“ Tsar of All Russia ” - 133 

Ivan IV, 1530-1584 

Said to the head of the Russian Church. 

V 

“ What Damsel is That With 

Them? ”.135 

Isaac Comnenus, Despot of Cypeus 
Said of Berengaria of Navarre, 1191. 

“ I Only Regret That I Have but 
One Life to Lose for My Coun¬ 
try ”.137 

Captain Nathan Hale, 1755-1776 
Said just before he was hanged. 

“ That District Produces the Great¬ 
est Variety Which is the Most 

Examined ”.139 

Gilbeet White, 1720-1793 
One of his sayings. 



CONTENTS 


xix 


“ That We May Die Together ” - - 141 

Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, 69-30 b. c. 
Message sent to Mark Antony. 

“ It Seems a Pity, but I Do Not 

Think I Can Write More ” - 143 

Captain Robert Falcon Scott, 1868-1912 
In last entry of his diary. 

“ You Have Lost the Wager, Sire! ” - 145 
Comtesse du Barry, 1746—1793 
Said to King Louis XV of France. 

“ Clear That Line! ” - 147 

Captain of a Whaling-Vessel 
Early part of Nineteenth Century. 

“ I Am Coming to Fight You ” - - 149 

Sviatoslaf, Russian Prince, 943-973 
Challenge which he sent to neighboring 
states. 

“ The Witch Has Left Me an Imp 

Instead ”.151 

Anna Dalton 

Last part of the Seventeenth Century. 

“ Why Don’t You Speak for Your¬ 
self, John?”.153 

Reply of Priscilla to John Alden, 

1622. 


XX 


CONTENTS 


“ I Have Seized England With My 

Two Hands!”.155 

William the Conqueror, 1027-1087 
Said on landing in England. 

’ “ Here Is the Very Spot! ” - - - 157 

Samuel Johnson, 1709-1781 

' « 

Said in deep penitence. 


“ One of the Chiefs Stabbed Him Be¬ 
twixt the Shoulders With a 
Dagger ”.159 

Description of the Death of Captain 
James Cook, 1728-1779. 

“ Those Troublesome Burghers ” - 161 

Count Louie II of Flanders, d. 1381 
Said of the people of Ghent. 

“ If My Right Hand Be Spared, I 
May Live to Do the King Good 

Service ”.163 

Sir Edmund Knevet 

Said to the Chief Justice of England, 1511. 

“ Through the Mist, Figures Were 

Seen Clinging to the Wreck ” - 165 
Grace Darling, 1815-1812 

Said of shipwrecked people whom she 
rescued. 


CONTENTS 


xxi 


“ Wisest of Men, He Knew the Lan¬ 
guages of All Creatures ” - - 167 

Solomon, King of Israel 

Said of him in the Tenth Century, b. c. 

“ Give Me Liberty or Give Me 

Death!”. 169 

Patrick Henry, 1736-1799 

Speech in the Virginia Convention. 

“ Is My Son LTnhorsed or Wounded 
That He Cannot Support Him¬ 
self? ”. 171 

King Edward III of England, 1312-1377 

Said of his son, the Black Prince, at the 
Battle of Cre£y. 

“ Bravo! Bravo!”. 173 

Cheers of Audience at First Performance 
of the Ninth Symphony, by Ludwig von 
Beethoven, 1770-1827. 

“ His Majesty Was Minded to Give 

the Queen a Kiss ” - - - - 175 

Said of James VI of Scotland, 1566-1625 
On his marriage with Anne of Denmark. 

“ I Am Made Extremely Welcome 

Here ”. 177 

Benjamin Franklin, 1706-1790 

Said during his sojourn in France as 
American Envoy. 




CONTENTS 


xxii 

“ I Think I May Promise You Some¬ 
thing Like a Good Day’s Sport ” 179 

The Eighth Duke of Beaufort, 1824- 
1899 

At the beginning of the Greatwood Run. 

“ Either Athens Must Perish or Her 

King” .181 

Pronouncement of Oracle to Dorian In¬ 
vaders of Athens, About 1066 b. c. 

“ Twelve Miles From a Lemon ” - - 183 

Rev. Sydney Smith, 1771-1845 
Said of his living in Yorkshire. 

“ I Really Do Not See the Signal! ” - 185 
Horatio, Lord Nelson, 1758-1805 
At the sea-fight of Copenhagen. 

“ Put It In With Me ” - - - - 187 

Lord Arthur Balmerino, 1688-1746 
Said on his way to trial for high treason. 

“ I Take, in the Name of His Majesty, 
Possession of This Country of 

Louisiana ”.189 

Chevalier Robert La Salle, 1643-1687 

On planting the French flag at the mouth 
of the Mississippi River. 


CONTENTS 


XXlll 


“ You Will Die Through Your Fa¬ 
vorite Horse ”. 191 

Said by Wizard to Prince Oleg of Russia 
In Ninth Century. 


u 


a 


I Would That the People of Rome 

Had but One Neck ” - 193 

Caius Caligula, Third Emperor of Rome, 
12-41 A. D. 

On being opposed by the common people. 

Don’t Fire Till You See the 

Whites of Their Eyes ” 195 

Colonel William Prescott, 1726-1795 
At the Battle of Bunker Hill. 


“ While There Is Life, There Is 

Hope ”. 197 

Rev. Patrick Bront£, 1774-1861 
His last words. 



Honor Is the Very Breath in Our 

Nostrils ”. 199 

Jeffrey Hudson, Dwarf and Page to 
Queen Henriette Maria of England, 
in Seventeenth Century 

Said on occasion of fighting a duel. 

“ Is This Jerusalem? ” - -201 

Asked by the Children of the Children’s 
Crusade, 1212. 




XXIV 


CONTENTS 


“ A Dinner Fit for a King ! ” - - - 203 

Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, 1755-1826 
In describing his favorite menu. 

“ The Angel of Hadley! ” - 205 

Said of Judge William Goffe, 1605-1679. 

“ In a Meadow Called Runnymede by 

the Thames ”.207 

From Description of the Signing of 
Magna Chart a, by King John of Eng¬ 
land, 1167-1216. 

“ What Man Can Calculate on 

What a Girl Will Say or Do? ” 209 
Said of Fortunata, a Rajput Princess 
Twelfth Century. 

“The Fortune of War!” - 211 

Reis Dragut or Torghud, Barbary Cor¬ 
sair, in Sixteenth Century 
When serving as galley-slave. 

“ My Sisters, the Birds, Ye Are 
Greatly Beholden to God for 
tile Element of the Air ” - - 213 

Saint Francis of Assisi, 1181-1226. 

“ Your Son Has a Natural En¬ 
thusiasm for Letters ” - - - 215 

Herodotus, Greek Historian, 484-425 b. c. 

Said of the Young Thucydides. 


CONTENTS 


XXV 


“ A Thousand Men! What a Host!” 217 
Giuseppe Garibaldi, 1807—1882 

On counting his soldiers in the Sicilian 
Expedition. 

“Poland! It is Thy End!” - 219 

General Thaddeus Kosciuszko, 1746-1817 
As he was taken prisoner by the Russians. 

“ Cotton Is King ”.221 

James Henry Hammond, 1807-1864 
Speech in the United States Senate. 

i 

“ How Didst Thou Warn Him? ” - 223 

Emperor Keiko of Japan, in First Cen¬ 
tury, a. D. 

To his son, at imperial banquet. 

“ Treason! The Crown is Stolen! ” - 225 

Talbot Edwards, Assistant-Keeper of the 
Crown Jewels of England, 1594—1674 
Alarm when Colonel Blood stole the 
State Crown. 

“ My Life Is Bound Up With Yours— 

My Own First and Last Love ” 227 
Robert Browning, 1812-1889 
Letter to Elizabeth Barrett. 

“It’s Graham’s Dike!” - 229 

Said by the People of England Since 
81 A. D. 



xxvi 


CONTENTS 


“ They Threw Me Down the Steps ” 231 

George Fox, Founder of the Society of 
Friends, 1624-1691 

His account of his treatment at York. 

“ Empire Is the Best Winding- 

Sheet!” -.233 

Theodora, Wife of the Byzantine Em¬ 
peror, Justinian I, d. 547 
During the Nika Revolt. 

“ Up, Guards, and At ’Em! ” - - - 235 

Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, 
1769-1852 

Command at the Battle of Waterloo. 

“ A Great Palace, Entirely Roofed 

With Fine Gold ” - - - - 237 

Marco Polo, 1254-1324 

From his famous books of travels. 

“ Throw a Quilt Over It ” - - - 239 

Friedrich II, King of Prussia, Called 
Frederick the Great, 1712-1786 

His last conscious words. 

“ Let No One Hurt the Inca Under 

Pain of Death ! ” - - - - 241 

Francesco Pizarro, 1471-1541 
At the taking of Caxamalca. 


CONTENTS 


xxvii 

“We Shall Be Bound to Prayse God 

for Your Tender Compassion ” - 243 

Rev. Peter Bulkeley, First Minister of 
Concord, Massachusetts, 1583-1659. 

“ Destroy the Mine by Blowing It 

In ”.245 

Orders Given Lieutenant Harley 

At the defense of Chitral in British India, 
1895. 

“ I Am the Big Buck of the Lick! ” - 247 
Abraham Lincoln, 1809-1865 
When a mere youth. 

“ Wales, Ring the Bell ” 249 

George Bryan Brummell, Called Beau 
Brummell, 1778-1840 

To the Prince of Wales. 

“ It Is the Reflection of Sunlight on 

an Uplifted Shield! ” - 251 

Said by Greek Soldiers 

Just after the Battle of Marathon, 490 
b. c. 


“ All Is Lost Save Honor ” - 253 

King Francis I of France, 1494-1547 
In a letter to his mother after the Battle 
of Pavia. 


xxviii CONTENTS 

“ By an Axe Wielded by the Noblest 

Hand in Russia ” - - - - 255 

Said of Peter I, Emperor of Russia, 
Called “The Great,” 1672-1725. 

“ She Taught the People the Art of 

Rearing Silkworms ” - - - 257 

Said of the Wife of Whang Ti, Emperor 
of China, About 2700 b. c. 

“ A Like Fate Will Befall All 
Those Who Refuse to Sacrifice 
to the Gods ” - - - 259 

Ingolf, a Colonizer of Iceland 
About 875. 

“ Exactly Two Years Younger Than 

Your Majesty’s Happy Reign! ” 261 
Francis Bacon, Baron Verulam, 1561- 
1625 

Said as a child to Queen Elizabeth. 

“ We Do Not Forbid You to Preach, 
and Gain as Many as You Can 
to Your Religion ” 263 

Ethelbert, King of Kent, 552-616 
To Saint Augustine. 

“ We Will Die for Our King—Maria 

Theresa ! ”.265 

Said by the Noblemen of the Hungarian 
Diet to Maria Theresa, 1717-1780. 


CONTENTS 


XXIX 


“I Am Joyful at My Good Fortune ” 267 

Francesco Petrarca, Called Petrarch, 

1304-1370. 

“ They Tore Out His Hair, and Also 
His Ear-Rings With Pieces of 
Flesh ”.269 

Said of the Murder of Count Von Fersen, 
Swedish Statesman, 1755-1810. 

“ This Is a New and Strong Tie I 

Shall Have to Break ” - - 271 

SlDDHARTHA GAUTAMA, CALLED BUDDHA, 

About 568-488 b. c. 

On renouncing the world. 

“ That I Might Be a Critical Eye- 

Witness ”.273 

Cotton Mather, Congregational Clergy¬ 
man of Boston, 1663-1728 

In his diary concerning witchcraft cases. 

“ On Account of His Singular Ad¬ 
venture ” - - - - - -275 

Said of Alexander Selkirk, 1676-1721. 

“ Up, Ye Boar’s Brood! ” - 277 

William de la Marck, Called the Wild 
Boar of Ardennes 

At the murder of Louis de Bourbon, 

1484. 


XXX 


CONTENTS 


“ There Appeared to My Eyes the 

Glorious Lady of My Mind ” -279 
Dante Alighieri, 1265-1321 
On seeing Beatrice Portinari. 

“ Lictors, Do Your Duty! ” - - - 281 

Junius Brutus, Roman Consul, About 500 
b. c. 

At a state trial. 

“ I Scarcely Gave Myself Time to 
Thank and Kiss That Little 
Friend ”.283 

Du Guay Trouin, French Privateer, 
1673-1736. 

“ One of the Things Which Make 

Life Worth While ” - 285 

Cecil John Rhodes, 1853-1902 
At council of African Chiefs. 

“ Nothing Succeeds Like Success ” - 287 
Said Concerning First Operation Under 
Ether—Performed by Dr. John Collins 
Warren, 1778-1856. 

“ This When Everything Has Been 

Nearly Done! ” - 289 

Skobelef, Russian General, 1843-1882. 

“ She Ministered a Long Cord to Him 

to Let Himself Down Upon ” - 291 
Old Chronicle of Margaret Twineslace 
About 1590. 


CONTENTS 


xxxi 


“ The Leg Wounded in His Country’s 
Service Should Be Embalmed 
in Memory ”.293 

Said of Benedict Arnold, 1741—1801. 

“ Look to Yourselves, My Masters, 

for the Lions Are Got Loose ” - 295 

A Retainer of Lord Herbert, Later Sixth 
Earl of Worcester, 1601-1667. 

“ To Shoot You With ” - - - - 297 

William Tell, to Gessler, Austrian Gov¬ 
ernor of Forest Cantons 

Middle of the Fifteenth Century. 

“ Cut the Dikes! ”.299 

Prince William I of Orange—Nassau— 
SuRNAMED THE SlLENT, 1533-1584. 

“ With an Amanuensis to Write to 

His Dictation ” 301 

Said of John Milton, English Poet, 1608- 
1674. 

“ Thine, O King, Are Our Trophies 

and Our Kingdom!” - 303 

Boabdil, King of the Moors 

At the Conquest of Granada, 1492. 


XXXll 


CONTENTS 


“ The Sooner, the Better! ” - 305 

Reply of His Men to Don John of Aus¬ 
tria, 1545-1578 

Before the Battle of Lepanto. 

“ Or Molly Stark Is a Widow To¬ 
night!” .307 

John Stark, American Soldier and Pa¬ 
triot, 1728-1822 

At the Battle of Bennington. 

“ Egyptian Pills at Thirty Shillings 

a Dram ”. 309 

Alessandrodi Cagliostro, Italian Alche¬ 
mist, 1743-1795. 

“ He Woke One Morning to Find 

Himself Famous ” - - - - 311 

Said of Lord George Gordon Byron, 1788- 
1824 

On the publication of his poem, “ Childe 
Harold.” 

“ I Can Conquer Men, but the Lion 
and the Wolf Are too Strong 
for Me! ”.313 

Attila, King of the Huns, Called “ The 
Scourge of God,” in Fifth Century. 

“ I Was Elevated by Your Love Above 

All Women ”.315 

Heloise, French Abbess, 1101-1163 
Letter to Abelard. 


CONTENTS xxxiii 

“ Six Out of Eight of the Crew 

Agreed ”.317 

Jerome Valbue, Captain of a Smuggling 
Vessel, About 1660. 

i 

“ I Feel as Big as Anybody ” - - - 319 

Tom Thumb, Celebrated Dwarf, 1837- 
1883 

Remark to Queen Victoria. 

“ I Am Angry With This Wretched 

Frame of Mine ” - 321 

Napoleon II, Called L’Aiglon, 1811-1832. 

“ We Wed Thee, Sea! ” - - - - 323 

Sebastian Ziani, Doge of Venice 

At the ceremony of the “ Sposalizio del 
Mar,” in 1177. 

“ We Were Sure You Would Come! ” 325 
To Dr. Elisha Kane, 1820-1857 

Welcome of four men whom he rescued. 

“ His Problem Was to Fall in Love 

With the Dowager Anne ” - 327 

Said of Maurice Comte de Saxe, Marshal 
of France, 1696-1750. 

“ Hands to Work and Hearts to God ” 329 
Mother Ann, a Founder of the Shakers, 
1736-1784. 


xxxiv CONTENTS 

“ It Is Magnificent, But It Is Not 

War” .331 

General Pierre Bosquet, 1810-1861 
Of the British cavalry charge at Bala- 
klava. 

“ The Fiddlers Have Come Too Late ” 333 
Jean Henri Fabre, 1823-1915 
Eminent French Scientist. 

“No Rival! ”. 335 

Major John Andre, 1751-1780 

Motto on his shield at mock tournament. 

“ Holy Saint Bride Has Passed By ” - 337 
Said of Saint Bridget, 452-523. 

“ Bring Forth the Horse! ” - 339 

Order Given Concerning Ivan Mazeppa, 
Hetman of the Cossacks, 1644-1709. 

“ Government of the People, By the 

People, and for the People ” - 341 
Abraham Lincoln, 1809-1865 

At the Dedication of the National Cemetery 
at Gettysburg. 

“ Resolved to Make Myself Master of 

the Indian Empire. Did So ” - 343 

Tamerlane, or the Lame Timur, 1333- 
1405 

In his autobiography. 


CONTENTS 


XXXV 


“ Round as the O of Giotto ” 345 

Concerning Giotto di Bondone, Italian 
Painter, 1267-1337. 

“ Permission to Set Up the First Cof¬ 
fee-House in Vienna ” - - - 347 

Reward Given Kolszicki, About 1683. 

“ Leila, the Sacred Mare, Is in the 

Prophecy ”.349 

Lady Hester Stanhope, 1776-1839. 

“ I Have Not Yet Begun to Fight ” - 351 
John Paul Jones, 1747-1792 
Answer to English man-of-war. 

“ But Then What Could I Do? ” - 353 

King Louis XI of France, 1423-1483 
Said of the death of his brother. 

“ The Lady With the Lamp ” - - 355 

Said of Florence Nightingale, 1820-1910. 

“ Honest Friendship With All Na¬ 
tions, Entangling Alliances 

With None ”.357 

Thomas Jefferson, 1743-1826 
Said in his first inaugural address. 

“ He Can Dance the Canaries - - 359 

Said of the Dancing Horse of Mr. Bank, 
Sixteenth Century. 


XXXVI 


CONTENTS 


“ The Good Estate ”.361 

Nicolo di Rienzi, Murdered in 1354 

His name for his scheme of popular free¬ 
dom. 

“ Like Spinning Insects ” 363 

Johann Kepler, Distinguished Astron¬ 
omer, 1571-1630 

His description of comets. 

“ It Is I Who Pity You! ” - 365 

Pierre du Terrail, Called Bayard, 1475- 
1524 

As he died on the field of battle. 

“ My Chain Was Returned ” 367 

Mr. Jerome Horsey, English Ambassador 
to Russia 

Latter part of Sixteenth Century. 

“ I Now Take Leave of You ” 369 

George Washington, 1732-1799 

On parting with the officers of the Revolu¬ 
tionary Arm}'. 

“ My Death Will Take Place Three 
Days Before That of Your 

Majesty” .371 

Said by Soothsayer to Tiberius Cesar, 42 
b. c.— 37 A. D. 


CONTENTS 


xxxvii 

“ Clad in Page’s Dress ” - - - - 373 

Said of Jacqueline, Countess of Holland, 

1401-1436 

On her flight from Ghent. 

“ Soldiers, If There Is One Among 
You Who Would Kill His Em¬ 
peror—Here I Am ! ” - - - 375 

Napoleon I, Emperor of the French, 
1769-1821 

His greeting to the army on his escape 
from Elba. 

“ With a High Hand ” - - - - 377 

Said of the Knights of Charles, Duke of 
Calabria, in 1326. 

“ Take Up Our Sister’s Kerchief ” - 379 
William Shakespeare, 1564-1616. 

“ Consider the Matter, Not Solely as 

a Step Necessary ” - - - - 381 

King Louis XIV of France, 1638-1715 
In letter to his fiancee, Marie Therese. 

“ Very Good Chestnut-Tree and 

Meadow Land ” - - - - 383 

From Report of Committee, Appointed by 
the General Court of Massachusetts 

in 1667. 


CONTENTS 


xxxviii 

“ Farewell to My Youth! - - - 385 

Francis Joseph, Emperor of Austria, 
1830-1916 

On first being hailed as “ Your Majesty.” 

“ A Little Girl Like That! ” 387 

Rachel Felix, Famous Actress, 1820-1857 
Said of her by box-office clerk. 

“ Pass On as Thou Wert Wont ” - - 389 

Sir James Douglas 

Fighting against the Moors, about 1329. 

“Augustus!”.391 

Title Given by Pope Leo III, in 800, to 
Charlemagne, King of the Franks. 

“ Below the Skirt, Trousers Mod¬ 
erately Full ”.393 


Amelia Jenks Bloomer, Dress Reformer, 
1818-1894. 

“ I Will Push On If We Have to Eat 

the Leather of the Rigging ” - 395 
Ferdinand Magellan, 1480-1521 

On his voyage circumnavigating the globe. 

“ The Troopers in Line—The Of¬ 
ficers in Position ” - - - - 397 

Report Concerning Fight Where Gen¬ 
eral Custer and His Men Were An¬ 
nihilated in 1876. 



CONTENTS xxxix 

My Voices Come Truly From 

Heaven ”.399 

Jeanne d’Arc, Known as “ The Maid of 
Orleans,” 1412-1431. 



% 



HISTORY'S MOST 
FAMOUS WORDS 


“PUT YOUR TRUST IN GOD, BUT 
KEEP YOUR POWDER DRY ” 

OLIVER CROMWELL, 1599-1658 

To HIS TROOPS WHEN THEY WERE ABOUT TO CROSS A 
RIVER TO ATTACK THE ENEMY 

A dull morning. 

In buff coats and breastplates, a troop of 
soldiers sit their magnificent horses along the 
bank of a river. Gleams of pale sunshine hit 
against spears and tops of steel caps, striking 
off fitful blue sparks. 

They strive to hold their champing steeds to 
the rigid discipline required. But the horses 
have not the same zeal of repression. 

Suddenly their commander comes galloping 
to them. A strong compact figure; a head 
formed for a storehouse of energy, but in which 
there is no room for fear. Oliver Cromwell, 
Lord Protector of England, and one of the 
greatest cavalry leaders of history. 

The forces opposed to him are the Royalists. 
They are men trained in all the gay chivalry 

and romantic gallantry of a Court. Their 

1 


2 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


cause is an appealing adventure, touched by 
the glamor of monarchy. 

Cromwell had realized that in order to 
achieve success, his Parliamentary soldiers 
must also be inspired by some great principle. 
They, too, must see a vision, and dream a 
dream. This motive had been found in Re¬ 
ligion. Oliver Cromwell chose his troops, both 
officers and privates alike, from “ religious 
men,” who were actuated by sectarian enthusi¬ 
asm. The desire to see the Puritans hold po¬ 
litical power in England was vivified by the in¬ 
tention to attain their religious supremacy. 
Cromwell thus wielded a mighty influence. 

He looks proudly now, with the glance of a 
leader of horse, along the well-drilled ranks. 
Always himself a religious fanatic, his harsh 
countenance reddens with emotion. The elo¬ 
quence of deep fervor glows in his untunable 
voice, and his men thrill to his words. 

A few sharp directions as to the fording of 
the river, and the battle array, into which they 
are to hurl themselves. A stirring reminder of 
the Faith for which they fought. 

Then comes the ringing command: 

“ Put your trust in God, but keep your pow¬ 
der dry.” 


“ PLEASE STAND OUT OF MY SUN¬ 
LIGHT ” 

DIOGENES OF SINOPE, 412-323 b. c. 

Said to King Alexander the Great 

A great Conqueror sweeps through the 
country; a soldier-statesman and student: 
Alexander the Great. 

His retinue is gorgeous. Fierce, martial 
men and courtiers of a lighter mode, whose 
jewels glitter to their gay movements. 

Alexander is on his way to interview a man 
named Diogenes, of whom he has heard 
strange things. It is said that Diogenes is a 
philosopher, who, in eschewing all luxury and 
pomp of the world, has reduced his living to 
the simplicity of asceticism. 

Alexander’s keen and brilliant mind is ever 
seeking new knowledge. If this be true, then 
Diogenes must have a motive for his virtuous 
self-control; there must be some reason back 
of his abstemiousness. 

Is it possible that this is the famous Thinker? 
This half-naked figure, crouched in a wretched 
wooden tub? Yes, this is Diogenes of Sinope! 

Alexander approaches him; addresses him 

3 


4 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


kindly and asks in what he can pleasure him— 
what boon he can grant from his world-wide 
possessions and authority. 

The courtiers crowd about, smiling and 
whispering among themselves. 

We shall see how Diogenes’ rigorous self- 
discipline relaxes at this unheard-of oppor¬ 
tunity. 

He will ask for wealth, say some, wealth 
to comfort his poor body with the good things 
of life. 

Nay, say others; he will ask the King for 
power. For with power he can disseminate his 
philosophical doctrines and force his precious 
opinions on his fellow-men. 

With a slow gesture Diogenes acknowledges 
that he has indeed a boon to crave. 

Breathlessly the group listen. The request 
comes: 

“ Please stand out of my sunlight.” 

That is all. All that the greatest King on 
earth can do for the philosopher of the tub. 
Because Diogenes holds already all things in 
his possession, by the mastery of his own spirit 
and body. 

Thoughtfully Alexander the Great moves 
away! 


“IF THY HEART FAIL THEE, DO 
NOT CLIMB AT ALL ” 

QUEEN ELIZABETH, 1533-1603 
Said in reply to Sir Walter Raleigh 

A great Queen saunters through a sunlit 
room followed by her courtiers. The hot sun¬ 
shine blazes down upon the ruddy glory of her 
hair, piled high and twined with priceless 
pearls. A gauzy ruff rises about her throat, 
leaving bare her white bosom with its load of 
flashing jewels. Elizabeth, Queen of England 
and Empress of hearts! 

Cut in the glass of a window-pane Queen 
Elizabeth sees the words: 

“ Fain would I climb, but that I fear to fall.” 

Amusement flutters the group. It is Wal¬ 
ter Raleigh who has done this. 

He is the son of a poor gentleman of Devon¬ 
shire and, hardly more than a lad, has lately 
come to Court to seek his fortunes. 

Raleigh’s ambitions turn to those far-away 
Western lands of which marvelous tales are 
beginning to be told. Tales of green and scar¬ 
let birds, who talk like humans; of trees called 

5 


6 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


mahogany, whose dark wood is precious and 
glossy as marble; aye, and where the very city 
streets are paved with silver! 

Queen Elizabeth realizes that the achieve¬ 
ments of explorers and gentleman adventurers 
add to her own and England’s greatness. She 
resolves now upon inspiring young Walter 
Raleigh by her personal interest. She asks her 
courtiers if a suitable completion to Raleigh’s 
attempted couplet would be: 

** If thy heart fail thee, do not climb at all.” 

Applauded and acclaimed, she draws a dia¬ 
mond ring from her finger, and inscribes the 
line. 

Then laughing and chatting, the group 
sweeps on. 

Into the empty room steals a youth of ex¬ 
ceptional beauty and grace: Walter Raleigh. 
The Queen’s gracious message enraptures him. 

He leans against the lattice window, and for 
him it opens on perilous seas of fairy glamor. 
He sees himself the Admiral of a stately gal¬ 
leon with purple sails and crested prow, which 
sails to the havens where high endeavor is re¬ 
warded by the wealth that wins the smiles of 
Kings. 


“ GIVE ME A PLACE TO STAND, AND 
I WILL MOVE THE WORLD ” 

ARCHIMEDES, 287-212 b. c. 

A SCIENTIFIC STATEMENT WHICH HE MADE IN A 
WHIMSICAL MANNER 

Long, long ago, in one of the lovely Grecian 
Islands of the Mediterranean, a man read and 
thought and experimented. In his study, with 
its windows set wide to the green, wooded 
slopes and the ocean and the sky, he worked 
with the crude scientific appliances of the 
times. Archimedes, mathematician and philos¬ 
opher. 

Particularly his gaze wandered often to the 
sky. For his father had been a great astron¬ 
omer, and as a lad, Archimedes had become 
familiar with thoughts of remote spaces and 
the lights which bridge purple abysses. 

He had made himself famous as an inventor 
of mechanical contrivances. 

Now he was pondering over the mechanism 
of levers, and the natural laws which govern 
them. He had demonstrated successfully that 
a very great weight could be moved by a very 
small force. 


7 


8 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Here was a thrilling truth! Why should it 
be limited? Could not the weight go on in¬ 
creasing? Surely! If only the lever could be 
long enough and adjusted with sufficient del¬ 
icacy of balance. 

The more Archimedes thought and worked 
on the subject, the more gigantic grew that 
typical weight. Farther and farther stretched 
that metaphorical lever, until it reached out 
into space—the star-dusted space to which 
Archimedes’ thoughts so naturally and so 
easily turned. Larger the one—longer the 
other—till their very apotheosis is attained, 
and Archimedes, exulting, wondering, cries: 

“ Give me a place to stand, and I will move 
the world.” 

It was true, if only he could reach a place, 
a point, a location among the stars, where he 
and his lever could stand. Whence, poised 
trembling amid the eternal, stately moving 
spheres, he could watch with awed rapture his 
lever like a mighty wing flash shining across 
dim distances. A place where secure, he could 
lift and raise until the cloud-wreathed earth 
moved. Oh, if only he could travel the crystal 
pathway among the stars to that far, fair place! 



“ALONG THIS TRACK OF PATH¬ 
LESS OCEAN IT IS MY INTEN¬ 
TION TO STEER” 

CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS, 1451-1506 

Said on his voyage of discovery to America 

Blue water beneath, sinking to unsounded 
depths and reflecting the immensity of blue 
sky above. Between them, three small ships, 
their canvas fluttering and snapping in the 
salty winds that come from distances where 
more blueness lurks—misty, mysterious. 

It is the first expedition of Christopher 
Columbus and goes forth under the patronage 
of Queen Isabella of Spain. 

Columbus is serene in his conviction that the 
world is a sphere and that West and East meet 
somewhere under the sun. He bends his thin, 
thoughtful face over crude charts, planning 
his course into the Unknown. 

But his sailors are doubtful and unhappy. 

They throng the decks, gazing anxiously out 
over the wine-dark seas. This is a strange 
voyage on which they are embarked, and no 
man knows its harbor. What lies beyond them? 

Chaos—and a chaos not even decently void, but 

9 


10 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


whirling with tempestuous storms and hor¬ 
ribly inhabited with weird and evil monsters, 
waiting to devour too venturesome mariners. 

Santa Maria! What slim, white body turned 
on that wave? And what song of devilish be¬ 
witchment was that? And if at the very best 
we win through all these perils of winds and 
waters, and escape the hideous maws of sea- 
creatures—why, surely, surely we shall but 
fall off the rim of the earth! For out there must 
be the end of all things. The fogs of oblivion. 

Columbus’ calm voice is heard: 

“ Along this track of pathless ocean it is my 
intention to steer.” 

His confidence in his own scientific deduc¬ 
tions and his dauntless courage inspire his 
men. Threatened mutiny and every other ob¬ 
stacle give way. 

Christopher Columbus achieves a success 
even greater than his dreams. For this trip, 
one of the greatest voyages of discovery ever 
made, brings him not to the then already known 
continent of Asia, but to America the Beauti¬ 
ful. 


“ o RIDER OF THE GREY HORSE! ” 

SUKTA, A RAJPUT PRINCE 
About 1556 

The ancient military caste of Rajputs is at 
war with Akbar, a Great Mogul of India. 

Noble warriors as they are, the Rajputs have 
been overwhelmingly defeated by Akbar’s 
crushing power. Their young Prince Pertap 
has been forced to take to the hills of Mewar, 
with only a few devoted followers. 

Pertap is the flower of Rajput chivalry. 
Dauntlessly brave; handsome; charming; the 
idol of men; the darling of women. 

His little band retreats farther and farther 
into the rocky fastnesses, closely pursued by 
Akbar’s ferocious soldiery. Among them, alas! 
is Pertap’s brother, Prince Sukta. Long years 
before, Sukta, influenced by various political 
reasons, had gone over to Akbar’s side and now 
leads the hunters of his young brother. 

A final skirmish decided Prince Pertap’s 
fate. Alone and wounded, he flees on his grey 
horse, Chytuc. But even this faithful com¬ 
rade is failing him, for Chytuc, too, is wounded. 

Up a narrowing, stony ravine Pertap 

11 


12 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

presses, hearing behind him the clatter of an¬ 
other and a fresher horse. 

A cry soars up the echoing rocks: 

“ O rider of the grey horse! ” 

What? His enemy is within call already 
then. 

Chytuc stumbles on—falters—checks. 

“ O rider of the grey horse! ” 

Chytuc is down. 

Pertap struggles to his feet, and turns to sell 
life dearly. But who is this that gallops up the 
trail? Pertap dashes the sweat and blood from 
his wearied eyes, and looks again, looks into the 
loving face of his brother. 

Prince Sukta hastily dismounts. With a 
few words of affection he lifts Pertap upon his 
own swift steed, and sends him safe away 
among the sheltering hills. 

Then sturdily, Sukta goes back to Akbar’s 
camp and confesses what he has done. And 
Akbar, most magnanimous, as he was most 
magnificent, of Eastern potentates, quietly ac¬ 
cepts the excuse of the man who had risked his 
life to save that of his brother. 



“DON’T GIVE UP THE SHIP!” 

CAPTAIN JAMES LAWRENCE, 1781-1813 
During the War of 1812 

Only half a pistol-shot’s distance between 
the two frigates lying yard-arm to yard-arm. 
The fearful broadsides of each blaze into the 
other with sulphurous flashes and thunderous 
roars. 

It is one of the brilliant naval duels fought 
in the War of 1812 between England and the 
United States. Still the age of sails, remem¬ 
ber. 

Our American frigate, the Chesapeake, is 
woefully short of officers, and her crew has 
never drilled together, as many of the sailors 
have only just come on board. Our gunners, 
stripped to the waist, fire frantically. They 
have named their cannons “ Raging Eagle,” 
“ Spitfire,” etc. 

Our opponent is the British frigate Shan¬ 
non, a model of efficiency, with a thoroughly 
organized crew. She is commanded by a gal¬ 
lant captain, Philip Bowes Vere. 

Captain James Lawrence of the Chesapeake 

13 


14 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


is adored by us all for his courageous and 
chivalric spirit. At the beginning of the fight, 
he points for our inspiration to our starry ban¬ 
ner floating at the fore. 

But, alas! the odds are too much against us. 
It is only a question of time. 

By scores our brave men fall. 

Finally Captain Lawrence himself receives 
his death wound. 

Sinking to the deck, he cries aloud: 

“ Don’t give up the ship! Fight her till she 
sinks.” 

If anything could have carried us through, 
those words would have done so. 

But the British boarders are rushing in a 
dense column on our decks. 

Strange! The Englishman, who hauls down 
the American flag, that very starry banner to 
which Captain Lawrence had pointed, is killed 
by a shot from his own ship! 

There is nothing left us but sullen surrender. 

Our only comfort, as we follow the Shannon 
towards the English port of Halifax, is that 
Captain Lawrence never regained conscious¬ 
ness to realize the loss of his ship to the enemy. 



Death of Captain Lawrence. 


















“ THE DIE IS CAST ” 

JULIUS CAESAR, 102-44 b. c. 

Said on crossing the River Rubicon 

The tramp of the Roman Legions shakes 
the land. 

They are returning, bold, bloody, brazen, 
from conquests in Britain and Gaul. What of 
harm can touch them! Are they not led by 
Julius Ceesar, and is he not descended from the 
very gods—aye, from Venus herself? His per¬ 
sonal charm by which he holds his soldiers’ 
adoration proves this, and his commanding 
genius. 

On sweep his vanquishing legions to camp 
at the foot of the Alps. 

But what is this stern news which meets 
them? A bitter decree from the Roman Sen¬ 
ate, prompted by the enemies of Julius Csesar, 
that he must disband his army. This would 
make Caesar a private person and thus liable 
to be called to account for some few little 
deeds which captious people might call un¬ 
constitutional. Can this be allowed? Never! 
Away, to prevent it. 


15 


16 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Caesar summons his war chariot and leaps 
upon its wooden floor. Its high, crescent¬ 
shaped guard, overlaid with bronze and ivory, 
shelters him from the flying dirt, as the chariot¬ 
eer, with reins tied about his waist, lashes the 
three fiery horses. Followed by a small com¬ 
pany, Caesar dashes for the River Rubicon, 
that outlines the frontier of Italy. 

Caesar knows that if he crosses the Rubicon 
with his soldiers, he is committed to hostile in¬ 
tent; if he does not, his enemies in Rome may 
ruin his career. 

As they gallop to where the dark blue cur¬ 
rent rolls, Caesar’s momentous decision is taken. 
At least the crime of the unlit lamp shall not 
be his. He plunges into the river, shouting: 

" Alea jacta est! ” “ The die is cast.” 

The dice have been tossed. They roll their 
appointed times and, settling irrevocably, en¬ 
grave their numbers on the scroll of fate. 

Caesar enters Rome triumphant, soon to be 
made Dictator and Consul. 


“ FORTUNE LIES IN THE GUTTER ” 

JAMES MONROE, FIFTH PRESIDENT OF 
THE UNITED STATES, 1758-1831 

In the beautiful forest of Saint Germain, in 
the environs of Paris, stroll some charming 
people chatting and laughing together. 

A young man leads his little daughter by the 
hand. He is tall and somewhat slouching, but 
his deep-set eyes are vitally alive. He has 
an air of unusual refinement and culture. 

They are accompanied by Madame Cam- 
pan—the Instructress of the Kings’ daughters. 

What way leads to success in life? What 
directions can we give to youth, that they may 
find the gilded guerdon? The conversation 
naturally turns to this channel. 

The young man listens with the “ patient 
consideration for all sides of any question ” 
for which his contemporaries laud him. 

Then he says decidedly: 

“ Fortune lies in the gutter. Anybody who 
takes the trouble to bend down can pick it up.” 

Well may he think so! For he has but to 
stretch out his hand for fortune. 

He is James Monroe. 

17 


18 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


One public position after another was his. 

Governor more than once of his native state 
of Virginia—Envoy extraordinary and minis¬ 
ter plenipotentiary to France—Minister to 
Great Britain—he became, at last, twice 
President of the United States. 

His name to-day is chiefly known in connec¬ 
tion with what is called the “ Monroe Doc¬ 
trine.” This is a policy of the United States, 
not originated by President Monroe, but first 
by him announced in an official manner. 

Summarized briefly, it is that European 
powers should take no part—should be pre¬ 
vented from taking any part in the politics of 
the American Continent. 

The man who crystallizes an idea, who puts 
it in concrete form, has the right to be hailed as 
the father of that idea. 

President Washington had recommended 
that the United States should avoid entangling 
itself in the politics of Europe. 

It was left for President Monroe to formu¬ 
late the counterpart. 



“ HE WONDERED AT THE EXCEL¬ 
LENCY OF THE SHOE AND 
PRETTY FOOT ” 

OLD CHRONICLE OF PSAMMETICUS I, KING 
OF EGYPT, 664—610 b. c. 

Slowly down the long flight of steps to the 
garden pool goes the lovely lady Rodolphe. 
Slowly through the blazing sunshine of that 
garden in Egypt long ago. 

Her dusky maids go with her. 

One waves a fan, bright-hued, of ostrich 
feathers; one bears a small, well-polished shield 
to serve as mirror; another carries jars of 
fragrant pomades, and of balms. 

The pool is set about with reeds. Tall reeds 
and slender, whose smooth spires grow close 
and form a screen. For here Rodolphe, that 
“ fairest lady in her days in all Egypt,” bathes. 

With low laughter and with talk between the 
laughter, her maids disrobe her for the bath. 
Carefully they spread their young mistress’ 
raiment in the sun. But one is careless—do 
her thoughts wander to some swarthy captain 
in the Pharaoh’s guard? She drops, unheed¬ 
ing, one of the little shoes of Rodolphe. 

19 


20 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Then from the far blue sky, a speck grows 
larger—larger—an eagle swoops down—and 
takes away the shoe! 

Now it happens—on that day in the Egypt 
of long ago—that its King, Psammeticus I, 
sits on the terrace of his lonely, splendid palace 
at Memphis. 

For Psammeticus cannot Seek afar for com¬ 
panionship congenial to his soul. He is Egypt’s 
King. He is but as the ploughman who may 
not wander from his allotted field until his 
work is done. 

Lonely and bored, the King gazes up into 
the azure sky. 

What comes? 

Swiftly and strong, an eagle, in his flight. 

The royal bird flies low—and drops a little 
shoe into the lap of the King! 

Psammeticus “ wondered at the excellency 
of the shoe and pretty foot.” 

He takes a sudden resolution. He causes a 
proclamation to be made: “ She that owns that 
shoe shall come presently to my Court.” 

The ending? 

Oh, Rodolphe came. 


i 





“ GENTLEMEN OF THE FRENCH 
GUARD, FIRE FIRST!” 

LORD CHARLES HAY, LIEUTENANT OF THE 
FIRST GRENADIER GUARDS 

Said at the Battle of Fontenoy, May, 1745 

The battle had raged for hours. 

Horrible noises roared and blazed. Bitter, 
suffocating smoke crushed down, shutting out 
the world of sane sunlight. Agony tore its 
way through writhing forms, and blood dripped 
thickly on turf that would grow more rank an¬ 
other spring. 

It was the war of the Austrian Succession. 

Fontenoy, a village of Belgium, was being 
held by the French, while the English and their 
Allies strove to take it and its surrounding 
woods. 

Early on this May morning, the British and 
Hanoverians were rallying for another attack 
upon Fontenoy. Their losses had been great, 
and a stern and glorious rage possessed them. 
With flaunting pageantry, as if on parade, 
with colors flying and drums beating, they ad¬ 
vanced up a slope to its low crest. Here a 

pause ensued. The French, both cavalry and 

21 


22 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


infantry, came forward from the redoubts that 
defended Fontenoy. The Guards Brigade 
and the Gardes Fran9aises met face to fa£e. 

Suddenly out from the English ranks darted 
a Lieutenant of the First Guards, Lord 
Charles Hay. He halted between the lines, a 
gallant young figure of war’s pomps. Wav¬ 
ing his hat in sweeping salute to the enemy, he 
shouted: 

“ Gentlemen of the French Guard, fire 
first!” 

Whirling to his own men, he called for three 
cheers. 

The astonished French officers drew them¬ 
selves up, and with dashing spirit returned 
Lord Hay’s salute. Their men answered with 
a rousing counter-cheer. 

Then came the French reply, ringing gayly 
across the carnage of the stricken field. 

“ Sir,” called the Comte d’Auteroches, “ we 
never fire first. Please to fire yourselves! ” 

By companies, the English fired. Their 
whole line poured out a tremendous series of 
volleys that shook the earth. Under that fire 
fell fifty French officers, and seven hundred 
and sixty men of the French line. 


“ I WOULD RATHER HAVE WRIT¬ 
TEN THAT POEM, GENTLEMEN, 
THAN TAKE QUEBEC TO¬ 
MORROW ” 

MAJOR-GENERAL JAMES WOLFE, 1727-1759 

The night before he was killed on the Plains 

of Abraham 

Through the tranquil night a boat is drift¬ 
ing silently. 

The wide river flows with a deep and mighty 
current. Near the bluffs on the northern 
shore, impenetrable shadows merge land and 
water into lowering masses. Farther out, 
drowned stars float on the mirroring surface. 

From the stern of the boat comes a low voice 
that mingles with the lap of the ripples: 

“ 4 The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,’ ” 

A man is lying, closely muffled in his cloak, 
and his musical words find an obligato in the 
sigh of the dark-blue night: 

“ ‘ And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave 
Await alike the inevitable hour":— 

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.’ ” 

23 


24i HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Who would fancy that this is a great mili¬ 
tary expedition? But such it is. 

The English are stealing down the Saint 
Lawrence River, under cover of darkness, to 
surprise the French in Quebec. It is their 
leader, Major-General James Wolfe, who is 
quoting lines from Thomas Gray’s “ Elegy in 
a Country Churchyard.” 

Dreamily he says: 

“ I would rather have written that poem, 
gentlemen, than take Quebec to-morrow.” 

Yet that he desired to take Quebec he had 
given ample proof. For he had accepted ac¬ 
tive service in spite of the fact that he was 
seriously ill, and constantly suffering exquisite 
pain; also he had left the woman he loved on 
the very eve of their marriage. 

He was a skilful and conscientious soldier 
and had neglected nothing to make this cam¬ 
paign the success which it was to prove itself 
on the morrow. 

But in the midst of war and war’s alarms, 
there had come to him this quiet hour, full of 
the peace which lies enshrined in poetry. 

The echoes of his voice linger still on the 
reaches of the river: 

“ The paths of glory lead but to the grave.” 


“ I FEEL THE FLOWERS GROWING 

OVER ME ” 

JOHN KEATS, 1797-1821 
Said just before he died 

A poet in his youth lies dying. 

John Keats, who before he was twenty-four 
gave us the loveliest lyrical poetry which the 
world has ever heard—odes, whose star-touched 
words hold sheer beauty. 

He is in a room in an Italian house, some¬ 
what bare and poorly furnished. The balmy 
sunshine floods softly in, but it cannot dispel 
despair and corroding illness. 

Keats’ sensitive spirit is torn. He is sepa¬ 
rated from the young girl whom he loves with 
the strange, impassioned fervor of a poet. He 
knows that he is being cut off at the very 
threshold of his poetical work. He broods over 
the cold reception accorded his published 
poems. 

Spring was coming, but not for John Keats. 

His friend, Joseph Severn, tends him with 
utmost devotion. 

Sometimes in the long hours of the night, 

25 



26 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Severn falls asleep in his chair and then the 
one candle, which the young men can afford, 
burns out, leaving the room to total darkness. 
To obviate this, Severn arranges a thread be¬ 
tween the end of the burning candle and the 
wick of the new one, so that the little fairy 
lamplighter can creep through the purple 
night, and touch and light the other candle. 
All the while, breathlessly the sick lad—for he 
was little more—watches the feeble aspiring 
spark, typical to him of how much! 

He lay, holding in his hand his sweetheart’s 
last letter, unopened. 

Towards the last, he spoke tranquilly: 

“ I feel the flowers growing over me.” 

Yes—flowers grow over John Keats. Vio¬ 
lets and daisies cover his grave in Rome. And 
beside him, after sixty-seven years, was laid 
Joseph Severn. 

Flowers as fair grow in Keats’ poems. In 
his pages bloom all he loved. There, till the 
future dares forget the past, shall be found 
color and dewy fragrance and the sound of 
green branches. 




“ I WILL NOT STAY IN THE SHIP, 
UNLESS YOU WOULD FORCE ME ” 

PHILIP STAFFE 

Said to the mutineers of Henry Hudson’s ship, 

Discovery , June, 1611 

It is too much! No more can be borne! 

The searing cold; the awful, unnatural dark¬ 
ness of the arctic Winter, just passed, have 
beaten and maddened the men’s souls and 
bodies, until they have reached the point of 
senseless, useless mutiny. They will take an¬ 
other leader! No more shall the Master, 
Henry Hudson, guide and guard them! 

Cold and cruel, the immensities of snow and 
ice surround them. Broken only where the 
still, black waters of the north yawn between 
ice floes. At the side of this ship, Discovery, 
rides her shallop, or skiff. 

With snarling, childish raging, quarreling 
already among themselves, the mutineers seize 
and bind Henry Hudson, and fling him into the 
shallop. Then they drag the sick and wounded 
among their comrades to be his companions on 
that sail of death. 


27 


28 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


But there is one man of that disgraced ship’s 
company who remains loyal. Philip Staffe, the 
ship’s carpenter, voluntarily, for love of the 
Master Hudson, and for the sake of right, dis¬ 
dained the safety of the Discovery —which 
eventually won home to England. Philip 
Staffe struggles through the fighting group to 
the ship’s side, and makes his declaration: 

“ I will not stay in the ship, unless you 
would force me.” 

Staffe keeps his head. He uses his personal 
influence with the mutineers and obtains a little 
food, a musket, and some ammunition. He 
takes also the tools of his trade, too true a 
craftsman to neglect them even in this dire 
stress. How their good familiar touch must 
have comforted him! Then he goes quietly 
down into the forlorn shallop. 

With its tragic load, it is cast adrift, never 
to be heard from again. Henry Hudson, the 
great explorer-navigator, has set forth on his 
last voyage. 

Philip Staffe, the ship’s carpenter, who chose 
a death with honor, steers with him, north by 
west, into the eternal silences. 


“IN THE NAME OF THE GREAT 
JEHOVAH AND THE CONTI¬ 
NENTAL CONGRESS! ” 

ETHAN ALLEN, AMERICAN PATRIOT, 

1739-1789 

At the surrender of Ticonderoga 

A small body of men are tramping through 
the woods from Bennington, Vermont, towards 
Lake Champlain. 

The spring forest is cool, with spicy shade. 
Not a tree has ever felt the axe. Trees have 
flourished their appointed time. Then they 
have fallen, to be buried in green moss and 
nourish the roots of other trees as gigantic as 
themselves. 

The men are evidently of a military expedi¬ 
tion. But some of them are dressed simply in 
the garb of backwoodsmen, and wear caps 
made of fur with the tails hanging down be¬ 
hind. Their leader is Ethan Allen. He is a 
stalwart New Englander, humorous, kindly, 
and with a shrewdness in thought and action 
which is equal to any emergency. 

Meanwhile, leagues away, the garrison of a 

British fort pursue their daily routine, with no 

thought of present alarm. Their fort, well- 

built for those days, is of earth and timber, and 

29 


30 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


is the key to the inland approach to Canada. 
It is called Ticonderoga, from an Indian word, 
meaning “ sounding waters.” 

One fine morning the British Commander 
of Ticonderoga, Captain de Laplace, is told 
that a force of men have marched into his fort 
and formed on the Parade. 

In amazement, “ with his breeches in his 
hand ” the Captain hastens out. He is con¬ 
fronted by Ethan Allen, who calls on him to 
surrender. 

“ In whose name? ” demands the astonished 
Britisher. 

“ In the name of Great Jehovah and the 
Continental Congress!” replies Ethan Allen 
calmly. 

Who? What? Strange Allies! 

Indeed, with the battle of Lexington a bare 
three weeks behind them, the authority of Con¬ 
gress, as Ethan Allen himself remarked, “ was 
but little known! ” 

The British meekly surrender. 

Ethan Allen writes an account of the pro¬ 
ceeding to the Massachusetts Congress, which 
he signs triumphantly: 

“ Ethan Allen, at present Commander of 
Ticonderoga.” 


“ HE WAS BURIED BESIDE HIS 
WIFE IN THE TAJ MAHAL ” 

SAID OF SHAH JEHAN, A GREAT MOGUL, 

1592-1666 

A scene of unbelievable beauty rises before 
us. 

A building of white marble—inlaid with 
precious stones: jasper, bloodstone, turquoise. 

Slowly we move towards it, up the long 
mosaic terraces, through the center of which 
flows a canal of azure water. The shadows 
of cedar-trees lie like black velvet across the 
gardens and fountains. 

The building, its great white dome crown¬ 
ing it, stands in the center of a marble plat¬ 
form, on each corner of which soars, with aerial 
grace, a white marble minaret. 

It is the Taj Mahal, at Agra, an ancient 
city of India. It was built by Shah Jehan, 
Mogul Emperor. Twenty-two years he 
spent, gathering together every conceivable 
beauty to adorn it. It was designed by Ustad 
Isa, a clever Persian architect. The perfect 
symmetry of its contours, the delicacy of its 

decorations, the lavish magnificence of its ma- 

31 


32 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


terials, make it “ the most splendidly poetic 
building in the world.” 

Also the use for which it was intended marks 
it as one of the world’s romantic edifices. For 
it was not as a pleasure palace, or a monument 
for the gratification of his own pride, that Shah 
Jehan built it. 

The Taj Mahal was a Mausoleum for his 
wife, Mumtaz Mahal, who died in giving birth 
to their thirteenth child. History declares— 
although it is not the record we should expect 
of an Eastern potentate—that Shah Jehan 
loved only her and was faithful to her till death 
did them part. 

So the Taj Mahal—the Tomb of Mahal— 
was chiseled a memorial to wedded love. 

A bubble of light, a globe of stone, so airy 
that it seems to drift up in the yellow Eastern 
dawn, to crystallize into a lasting vision of 
beauty and love. 

According to Shah Jehan’s wish, “ He was 
buried beside his wife in the Taj Mahal.” 



“ DAMN THE TORPEDOES! FULL 
SPEED AHEAD!” 


DAVID GLASGOW FARRAGUT, AMERICAN 
ADMIRAL, 1801-1870 

At the naval engagement of Mobile Bay 

“ Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead! ” 

“ I beg your pardon, Commodore? Did I 
understand you to say-” 

“ Well! Isn’t it enough to make any man 
swear? 

“ Here I have my chance to force an en¬ 
trance into Mobile Bay, so far in the hands of 
the Confederates. We have actually gotten in 
part way—our seventeen Union cruisers and 
gunboats lashed together in couples, in order 
to tow away the vessel on the side of the fort, 
should it become disabled. 

“ Because, of course, we are fearfully ex¬ 
posed to the fifty guns of Fort Morgan. We 
are obliged to keep in the one-hundred-yard 
channel near the fort, for good and sufficient 
reasons. My leading ship, the Tecumseh, hav¬ 
ing just fallen foul of one of those reasons, has 
been blown up. She sunk in ten seconds. 

“ Discouraged? 


33 




34 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

44 No. 

“ I have climbed up into the rigging of my 
boat, the Hartford, because the smoke from 
the enemy's guns and our own obscured my 
vision. I must see clearly. I suppose I am a 
better mark here—but I have had myself 
lashed into the ratlines, so if I am wounded 
I will not fall to the deck and bother the men. 

“ And now—now—the Brooklyn, which is 
leading our line—stops and blocks us from ad¬ 
vancing. And when I demand ‘Why?’ the 
signals come back: 4 There are torpedoes 
ahead! ’ 

44 Swear! I wish I could think of some more 
words! 

44 Please signal the Brooklyn, politely, very 
politely, that if it makes her feel any easier to 
know the number, there are just one hundred 
and eighty torpedoes anchored in the channel. 

44 Now, gentlemen, once more, 4 Damn the 

torpedoes! Full speed ahead! ’ ” 

* 

The battle of Mobile Bay was won glori¬ 
ously—by Commodore Farragut, in his fifty- 
third year. 


“ Ah! methinks I see him now, 
Lashed to the rigging still.” 






“ A SONG WHICH NOBODY IN THAT 
COUNTRY KNEW EXCEPT 
THEY TWO ” 

CONCERNING KING RICHARD I OF ENG¬ 
LAND, 1157-1199 

King Richard paces the narrow confines of 
his prison, in the castle of Durenstein on the 
River Danube. 

King Richard has sacrificed all his other in¬ 
terests and ambitions to fulfil his crusading 
vows. He has fought with the greatest valor 
and gallantry in the Holy Land, earning for 
himself the nickname of Lion-hearted. He 
has concluded a truce with the Saladin, under 
which Christians receive free access to the Holy 
Sepulchre. 

But on his way home from Palestine, King 
Richard has been taken prisoner by his per¬ 
sonal enemy, Leopold, Duke of Austria. His 
friends and his subjects in England are in total 
ignorance of his whereabouts. Who can find 
him? Who will rescue him? 

Is he doomed, in the vigor of his young man¬ 
hood, to lifelong incarceration? Other men 
have so suffered and languished. 

Will year after year drag its iron length to 

35 


36 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

corrode and torture his manly spirit while 
his flesh becomes shriveled—his hands turn 
into talons—and in his frowsy hair the vermin 
—“ God have mercy upon all prisoners and 
captives! ” 

Suddenly the King lifts his head. 

A troubadour is singing as he saunters by 
the prison wall—King Richard is himself a 
member of that gentle brotherhood—and he 
listens enraptured. 

But what joy is this! 

Why! It must be none other than his own 
faithful Blondel, because he is singing “ a 
song which nobody in that country knew ex¬ 
cept they two.” 

So indeed it proves. 

Hardly able to control his trembling voice, 
King Richard sings the concluding bar of the 
song—and Blondel answers! 

The faithful minstrel had been wandering 
through country after country, looking for his 
master, with this musical method of search. 

Blondel returns to England with the news 
of its King’s whereabouts. 

Richard is promptly ransomed by the pay¬ 
ment of large sums, and arrives safely in his 
native land. 



“ THOSE TRAITOROUS SICILIANS ” 

CHARLES OF ANJOU, KING OF NAPLES AND 

SICILY, 1220-1285 

Concerning the Sicilian Vespers 

Ding —Dong—The silver sound of the bells. 

Peacefully the people of Palermo, Sicily, 
this Easter Monday evening of 1282, stroll 
across the fields. They are going to hear ves¬ 
pers, as is their custom on festivals, at a church 
a little distance out of town. 

Ding—Dong—The sweet, singing peal of 
the bells. 

But what is this horrid sound that mingles 
suddenly with the bells? A woman’s screams, 
in terror and humiliation. 

Sicily is under the dominating tyranny of a 
foreign conqueror and usurper, Charles, Count 
of Anjou, brother of King Louis IX of 
France. 

For years the Sicilians have suffered from 
the unbounded greediness and brutal licen¬ 
tiousness of the French soldiery. They have 
borne oppressive taxes and cruel laws. Even 

their young nobles have been forced into de- 

37 



38 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


grading personal services—they have turned 
spits in the kitchens of the foreigners. 

Various of their patriots are secretly en¬ 
couraging the Sicilians to revolt—among them 
the gallant John of Procida. More and more 
the spirit of nationalism soars. 

Oh! the sobbing ring of the bells! On this 
holy evening, a French soldier brutally seizes 
a beautiful young woman, member of an aristo¬ 
cratic family, and publicly insults her. 

The girl’s shrieks, as half-mad she runs 
through the streets, arouse the entire populace. 
Led by her young husband and her father, the 
Sicilians snatch up whatever weapons come to 
hand, and fall upon the French. The clashing 
of the bells becomes a tocsin. 

Loudly pound the bells. Their wild, metallic 
clatter surges through the pulses of the 
Sicilians, until they massacre every one of 
French blood in Palermo—sparing neither sex 
nor age. 

When Charles of Anjou was told of the in¬ 
surrection of the Sicilian Vespers, he cried out 
against 

“ Those traitorous Sicilians.” 

Traitors, to begin the freeing of their coun¬ 
try? 



“ THEN SELL YOUR LIVES 
DEARLY!” 

GENERAL WILLIAM EATON, 1764-1811 

Said to his command in the Libyan Desert 

The African sun blazes down upon the 
desert. It turns the sands to quivering gold 
that stretches away in undulating waves. Be¬ 
tween the billows lie sharp-cut shadows of solid 
black. The sky seems like an inverted bowl of 
burning brass. 

A little company struggles across the hot, 
sliding sand. A few Greeks, some Arabs. 
Can these others be American soldiers? Yes, 
thus far from home are they. 

For their leader, General William Eaton, 
has heard that some fellow-countrymen are 
prisoners in Tripoli. Christians in the hands 
of Infidels! Americans, liable to insult and 
torture by Turks! 

Let us push on swiftly! 

But the terrific and unusual heat is telling 
on the American lads. Also the food is giv¬ 
ing out. 

Worse still, our allies, the handsome, treach¬ 
erous Sheiks are becoming more and more diffi¬ 
cult to manage. 


39 


40 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


At last the Arabs refuse to progress, and 
insist upon a halt for a long rest. General 
Eaton at once stops rations. 

The infuriated tribesmen circle the Ameri¬ 
cans, whom they greatly outnumber, wild, 
dark faces scowling above brandished guns. 

The handful of Americans draw together 
and steadily face the horrible glare in which 
their barbaric enemies reel and shout! 

Quietly General Eaton cautions his men not 
to commence hostilities—to stand firm. But 
should the firing actually begin, he adds: 

“ Then sell your lives dearly! ” 

The determined front of the Americans 
causes the Arabs to halt. Their chiefs began to 
consider—somewhat belatedly—that, after all, 
they are Christians, like the Americans with 
whom they have made common cause against 
the Turks. 

Sullenly they lower their guns. 

General Eaton suggests supper! If the 
Sheiks will promise to start their tribesmen in 
the morning? Agreed! 

Not this time will those brave young Ameri¬ 
can lives be sold. 

The swift, southern dusk falls coolly over the 
desert, and above are the peaceful stars. 



“ HIS SHIP WAS CALLED THE 
GREAT DRAGON ” 

BOAT OF SWEYN, KING OF THE DANES 

Said about 1000 

The Danes! The Danes! 

Dreadful cry of warning! 

The inhabitants of the little coast villages of 
England rush out of their thatched cottages 
and gaze despairingly off to sea. 

There they come, the ships of the Vi-Kings— 
Vi meaning bay or inlet, whence these northern 
Kings sail out on their piratical raids. 

See them! Each boat has a high, gilded 
prow in the shape of some ravening creature, 
dragon or griffin or vulture, whose grim 
shadows are cast upon the waves. 

The Danish King Sweyn “ of the forked 
beard ” leads them. 

“ His ship was called the Great Dragon.” 

Sweyn comes with better reason this time 
than the Danes usually have for their raids. 
He comes to avenge the murder of his sister, 
a fair and stately lady, named Gunhild. 

Many, many times the Danes have made bar- 

41 



42 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


barous and overwhelming incursions into Eng¬ 
land until they have conquered much of the 
Island. Many of their people have settled 
here. Not all of them are pirates at heart. 
Some are glad to be quiet farmers and traders. 

But Sweyn forces the English to pay an 
enormous tribute in gold, which is a terrible 
tax on them. 

The English King, Ethelred, nicknamed the 
Unready, is weak and vacillating. He tries to 
fight the Danes and expel them by force of 
arms, with no avail. 

Therefore with the wicked cunning of a 
feeble man, Ethelred sets a day when, by secret 
means, every Dane living peacefully in Eng¬ 
land is murdered. Among those who fall is 
the royal lady, Gunhild, and her household. 

When this news is brought to Sweyn, his 
wild rage bubbles forth in frantic commands 
for a new and fiercer raid. He vows to pluck 
the crown from the brow of Ethelred. 

For three years the Danes carry fire and 
sword over England. At last Sweyn becomes 
“ a foreign King of England.” But very short 
was his cruel reign. 


“ THESE ARE MY JEWELS! ” 

CORNELIA, WIFE OF TIBERIUS GRACCHUS 

Said of her sons, called “ The Gracchi,” about 

153 b. c. 

Charming creatures of the female species 
made morning calls in Ancient Rome, as they 
have done everywhere ever since there were any 
mornings in which to make them! 

We see a rich and sumptuously attired 
Roman matron, languidly descending from her 
slave-borne litter. She enters the house of her 
friend, Cornelia. 

How glad they are to see each other! 

The visitor sinks amid the cushions hospitably 
offered her. While secretly pitying her dear 
friend for the wretched taste with which she 
does her hair, she compliments her upon being 
in excellent looks. 

Then with studied carelessness, she moves 
her graceful arm so that its broad band of gold 
may catch the sun’s rays. 

Cornelia, not to be outdone in politeness, 
admires the gold bracelet. 

Oh! does she really like it—a mere trifle, 
but it is pretty. Husbands are sometimes com¬ 
placent to one’s wishes! 

43 


44 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


But if you care for such things, darling 
Cornelia,—here I’ll show you —just look at 
these pearls. I wear them half-concealed be¬ 
neath my robe. And here are some moon¬ 
stones carved by a famous craftsman. Now, 
dearest Cornelia, show me your jewels! 

Cornelia is irritated; as much irritated as so 
good a woman as she can allow herself to be¬ 
come. 

Of course, her visitor is unutterably vain and 
frivolous. But it would be nice to be able 
quietly to outdo her by some splendid piece of 
jewelry. But the gods know Tiberius Grac¬ 
chus never seems to bring home many spoils, 
for all his grand campaigns in war! 

What shall she show? 

An idea comes. Cornelia gives a triumphant 
order, and the next moment two handsome, 
well-grown lads bound into the room. 

After all she is fortunate above most women. 
Two sons such as these are certainly to be 
classed among earth’s most precious posses¬ 
sions. 

We hear Cornelia’s suave, complacent 
words: 

“ These are my jewels! And their virtues 
are my ornaments.” 




“ THY NEED IS GREATER THAN 

MINE ” 

SIR PHILIP SIDNEY, 1554-1586 
Said when he gave his cup of water to a dying 

SOEDIER 

The Spanish convoy has been beaten off! 
The provisions are ours! 

But at what a price! 

Our beloved leader, Sir Philip Sidney, has 
been hit. A bullet has struck his thigh and he 
reels in his saddle, fainting. 

This obscure skirmish has taken cruel toll. 
Philip Sidney—the flower of English chivalry, 
the pattern of all that is knightly and splendid 
among her young nobles. 

Bind his wound—oh, for water to assuage 
his deathly fever! Can you ride on, Sir Philip? 

Supported by loving arms, the Knight rides 
slowly towards camp. His blood is ebbing 
fast—oh, where are the messengers who search 
for a spring or rivulet? His anguish grows, 
and his brave young lips are set and white, 
though not a moan escapes them. 

Bear up, Sir Philip! He fails more and 

more! Praise the Saints—water at last! 

45 





46 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


A trooper comes galloping madly, carefully 
bearing in his helmet the precious water, clear 
and cool. The sad cavalcade stops, and eagerly 
the water—alas! there is but little of it—is 
poured into a cup. It is lifted towards the 
Knight’s parched mouth. 

• As Sir Philip Sidney bends his head to 
drink, he sees by the roadside a common sol¬ 
dier who has been wounded—wounded more 
grievously than himself. For the man is even 
now dying, choking his life out in the stifling 
dust. 

The soldier’s glazing eyes look wistfully to¬ 
wards the cup of water. He knows there is 
not enough for both, and of course, it is quite 
right that his superior should have it, only—he 
is so thirsty- 

Gently Sir Philip Sidney motions to his 
anxious attendants. Astounded, they obey him. 
They draw back the cup of water from the 
Knight’s lips and carry it to the dying soldier. 
He drinks in bliss, and the last thing he hears 
upon earth is Philip Sidney’s quiet consolation: 

“ Thy need is greater than mine.” 





“ I PROPOSE TO FIGHT IT OUT ON 
THIS LINE IF IT TAKES 
ALL SUMMER! ” 

LIEUTENANT-GENERAL ULYSSES S. 

GRANT, 1822-1885 

At Spottsylvania Court-House 

Sturdy U. S. Grant! 

It took more than a war to disconcert him! 

It is in the spring of 1864 and the struggle 
for the Union has been raging cruelly for three 
long years. President Lincoln has just for¬ 
mally invested Ulysses S. Grant with the 
credentials of the first Lieutenant-Generalship 
since the days of President Washington. 

General Grant is bringing all the driving 
energy and iron determination of his character 
towards leading the combined Union forces 
forward to final and conclusive victory. Op¬ 
posed to him are General Robert Lee and his 
army of gallant Southerners, and the strength 
of both sides is being tested to the utmost. 

General Grant’s explicit policy is “ attri¬ 
tion.” That is, the constant wearing and 
pounding of the Southern line. This means of 

course that his own men are used with a merci- 

47 


48 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

less stress and hurry; thrown into action again 
and again with breathless, dogged power. 
These were his own words for it: 

“ I propose to fight it out on this line if it 
takes all summer! ” 

They rang over the battlefield of Spottsyl- 
vania Court-House, to announce his final and 
irrevocable resolve. 

On and on pour the Northern regiments; on 
and on the steady ranks of blue, one closing in 
upon the other. Men and horses sweeping on to 
fill the gaps left by their fallen comrades. On 
and on—slowly gaining, rod by rod. Artillery 
pausing—flaring—bumping on again. Cavalry 
wheeling in flanking manoeuvres. Camp fol¬ 
lowers; commissary stores; all pressing for¬ 
ward. Men—men—men—to die—to lie under 
the stars—to stumble up and on, bitterly 
wounded. Ever the march goes on. 

Is there no end to it? Is there no mercy? 

Thousands killed in an hour- What? Still 

on? 

But the summer is gone, the fight is over, and 
the line has reached and penetrated the heart of 
the Confederacy. 







“ LAST NIGHT THERE WERE FOUR 

MARYS ” 

CONCERNING THE LADIES IN WAITING OF 
MARY STUART, QUEEN OF SCOTS, 

1542-1587 

Ah! not to-day?—Not this very morning? 

Yes. The harsh decree has gone forth. The 
Queen of Scotland is to die to-day upon the 
scaffold. She has been a prisoner of state to 
Queen Elizabeth, in England, for nearly 
twenty years. 

Unfortunate, sinned-against Queen! Beau¬ 
tiful, brilliant, subtle, dangerously fascinating 
woman. Her failings have been those of her 
century with its limitations; its cruelties; its 
constant warfare. In her personal qualities 
there never was a woman so sure to attach 
friends and followers. 

How they have loved her! They, the ladies 
of her Court, who have gone with her into 
exile and prison. 

They kneel weeping beside her to kiss her 

hands—those lovely hands whose whiteness 

once betrayed her. Those gracious hands, 

which only last night distributed amongst her 

49 


50 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

attendants her jewels and money. Poor 
enough they are, most of them, and looking 
forward to little of this world’s prosperity. 
So that these royal gifts will comfort them 
materially, as well as by the sentiment of the 
memories connected with them. 

Such memories! Of balls and banquets and 
frolics that verged on carousals. Of escapes 
from the Queen’s enemies and wild rides 
through the night. 

It is true also that these fair hands of hers 
wrote bitter messages last night to Philip, King 
of Spain, calling for vengeance on her enemies. 
But why—why, they, her ladies ask you, should 
she not? They are also enemies of her Church. 

Can it be that they gaze for the last time 
upon her exquisite charms? Her hazel eyes, 
her dimpled chin, her sweetly formed mouth. 

“ Last night there were four Marys, to-night 
there’ll be but three-” 

Alas! They, the Queen’s Ladies in Wait¬ 
ing, sing this pathetic song in exile. 

Mary Seton, Man^ Beton, Mary Carmi¬ 
chael, and Mary Hamilton were the Queen’s 
favorite dames in waiting. 




Last Night there were Four Marys. 












“ SISTER ANNE, SISTER ANNE, DO 
YOU SEE ANY ONE COMING? ” 

WIFE OF GILES DE LAVAL, THE REAL 
BLUEBEARD, 1396-1440 

Not true—all that about Bluebeard? 

Indeed it was, as I, one of the monster’s 
wretched wives, have good reason to know. 

Monsieur Perrault wrote a story about us. 
He sends my sister up into the tower to watch 
for help. Almost desperate, I shriek to her: 

“ Sister Anne, Sister Anne, do you see any 
one coming? ” 

Bluebeard’s real name was Giles de Laval, 
Seigneur de Retz. He was a brave and dis¬ 
tinguished soldier of France, and he inherited 
vast estates. We lived in great splendor. 

In the curious, emotional way of life which 
people sometimes follow in these Middle Ages, 
Giles mingled a careful heed of religious ob¬ 
servances with personal profligacy. His pri¬ 
vate chapel was gorgeously decorated. When 
King Charles VII was consecrated at Rheims, 
I have been told that Giles marched in the pro¬ 
cession to the Cathedral and carried the am¬ 
pulla containing the sacred oil. 

51 



52 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


But, oh! I am not the only woman who 
suffered from his abominable ways. 

Gradually his dissipations squandered his 
great wealth. Endeavoring to retrieve his for¬ 
tunes, Giles had recourse to alchemy. 

Then he turned for help to sorcery. In or¬ 
der to complete some of the diabolical rites of 
black magic, it was necessary to have “ the 
blood and hearts of beautiful children.” So 
Giles lured dozens of young women and mur¬ 
dered them! 

He did! Oh, he did! And all this while he 
was fulfilling his religious duties with careful 
precision. 

Of course he was finally arrested, and the 
records of his trial are in the archives at Paris. 
His judges were overcome with horror at the 
atrocious crimes which Giles brazenly con¬ 
fessed. 

The remains of over eighty bodies of his 
victims were found in his various castles. 

He was executed by strangling. 

And showed his strange nature to the last by 
the typical request that a Bishop might head 
his death procession! 


“ WHOM HE DEFEATED IN 
TWELVE GREAT BATTLES ” 

CONCERNING ARTHUR PENDRAGON, KING 
OF BRITAIN, ABOUT 500 

Legendary? 

Nay—Arthur Pendragon, King of Britain, 
was a real person. 

Old histories, old chronicles, tell of him. 
How he drew the petty Princedoms under him. 
How he led the armies of the British Kings 
“ against the Saxon invaders whom he defeated 
in twelve great battles.” 

We see him, in the wide hall of his palace 
on the mount of Camelot, above the dim, rich 
city. Here is the round table, where sit Ar¬ 
thur’s Knights in an equality of position 
symbolic of their equality of purpose and af¬ 
fection. 

For when Arthur, “ the blameless King,” 
first mounted his dais, robed in red samite, with 
the golden dragon of Britain clinging to his 
crown, he instituted a new order: The Knights 
of the Round Table. He bound the youths 
of his Court with such strait vows of utter 

hardihood and utter gentleness that, “ when 

53 


54 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


they rose, knighted from kneeling,” their 
young eyes were dazed as if with the coming of 
a light. 

From Camelot the Knights ride forth—to 
redress human wrongs; to aid distressed dam¬ 
sels; to search for the Holy Grail. 

When they return victorious, tournaments 
are held in the fields by the river. 

Round the lists sit Lords and Ladies, in 
brilliant green and rose and orange velvets and 
silver tissue. 

Those Knights who hold the lists, and those 
who assail them, set lance in rest. Spurring 
their plunging horses, they dash forward to 
meet in the center with such furious shock that 
many a rider is hurled to grievous wounds 
or death. To the victor comes the joy of choos¬ 
ing the Queen of Love and Beauty, who will 
rule the feasts that follow. 

Arthur Pendragon is long dead. The ideals 
of his Round Table still live, although not in 
the same form—not under the same guise. 


“ The old order changeth, yielding place to new. 
And God fulfils Himself in many ways.—” 


“ ON ME BE THE SUFFERING ” 

ZAHIR-UD-DIN MAHOMED, CALLED BABAR, 

1483-1530 

The first of the Great Moguls—called 
Babar, the Tiger—holds his court at Agra. 

Through the struggles of long, arduous 
years, he has made himself master of India and 
has founded a Mohammedan Dynasty—which 
is to last nearly four centuries. 

Now the King rests himself and rejoices in 
peace. 

Born on Saint Valentine’s Day, Babar has 
one of the most delightful personalities known 
to history. A brilliant soldier; a beneficent 
ruler, as Eastern Monarchs go; a winning 
friend; an accomplished student. 

With him now are his three beloved daugh¬ 
ters, Rose-blush, Rose-face, Rose-body. Also 
their mother, whom Babar calls “ Dearest- 
Dear.” 

Surrounding their palace are gardens where 
flourish specimens of the flowers which Babar 
has noted in his copious autobiography written 
during his travels. There is an oleander of a 
red unlike all other blossoms, and a tulip, “ yel¬ 
low, double, scented like a rose.” 

55 


56 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS * 


The courtiers arrange elephant fights at 
which the King looks on. Babar’s favorite ele¬ 
phants are hung with velvet of a crimson color, 
studded with turquoise. 

To this scene of royal comforts comes, of a 
sudden, a tragic change. 

Humayon, the eldest son and heir of Babar, 
is brought home to Agra, dying. 

Learned doctors and wise men declare that 
nothing will save Humayon’s life save some 
supreme sacrifice. 

Babar agrees solemnly. He offers his own 
life. 

The wise men are aghast! They had only 
hinted at a sumptuous present of money or 
jewels as a present to God—to go through 
their hands! 

Babar enters the chamber where the young 
Prince’s soaring soul is almost ready to take 
flight among the soaring wings of the pigeons 
without his window. Babar prays by his son’s 
bedside. Then he walks three times about it, 
saying each time: 

“ On me be the suffering.” 

Humayon recovers. 

But Babar is dead before the year is out! 


“ NOT A DRUM WAS HEARD, NOT A 
FUNERAL NOTE ” 

SAID OF THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE, 

1761-1809 

Darkness, deep and lowering, drawn across 
the winter sky. Darkness, heavy and sad, clos¬ 
ing in upon our hearts. For our Commander, 
Sir John Moore, lies dying. 

Our English army has been endeavoring to 
assist the Spaniards against the advance of 
Napoleon. We were forced to retreat from 
before Madrid, with our men in wretched con¬ 
dition. Mile after mile the French pursued us, 
while our regiments that Sir John Moore had 
trained covered themselves with glory in the 
ceaseless, rear-guard fighting. 

At last Sir John Moore stood gallantly at 
bay near Corunna. Here, yesterday, by heroic 
and desperate fighting, we succeeded in giv¬ 
ing the French a thorough repulse. 

But at what cost! Sir John Moore received 
his death-wound. 

Still in the prime of life, he is blessed with 

virtues and accomplishments. He is adored by 

57 


58 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


the rank and file whom the mercy of his dis¬ 
cipline has often saved from the lash. 

Sir John Moore will not allow his sword to 
be taken off, although the hilt galls his wound. 
Like the knights of old, he insists upon dying 
with his sword buckled to his thigh. 

Faithful warrior; he sends with stiffening 
lips messages to his government. Charming 
and romantic lover; he murmurs the name of 
Lady Hester Stanhope. 

Now—he is gone. 

In the darkness, we obey his last command. 
We bear his body to the ramparts of Corunna, 
and in sorrow and in haste we bury him. 

We dare make no sound, so close is the 
enemy’s camp. 

“ Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note.” 

Fitful moonbeams break through the clouds 
to show us the face of our dead. 

We smooth and tramp the sod above that 
beloved head, and bitterly we think of “ the 
foe and the stranger ” who will tread upon it— 
when we are far away. 

We do not mark his grave. Its place is 
found in the chart of glory. 


“ THERE LIES THE ONLY MAY- 
POLE IN NEW ENGLAND ” 

JOHN ENDICOTT, GOVERNOR OF THE 
MASSACHUSETTS BAY COLONY, 

1588-1665 

Sunset on Midsummer Eve in New Eng¬ 
land. From the woods come the crystal calls 
of thrushes, and long, level sun-rays shimmer 
through the balmy, golden air. 

A Maypole has been erected. 

It is twined with boughs of the liveliest 
green, among which roses seem to have grown 
by magic. Its shaft is stained in brilliant colors 
and silken ribbons hang fluttering about it. 

Around the Maypole dance, hand in hand, a 
crowd of gay revelers. The lads and lasses 
are decked in fantastic disguises which create 
delicious, mutual laughter. Music sounds in 
mirthful cadences and young voices ring out in 
gleesome peals. 

This is the Settlement of Merry Mount, or 
Mount Wollaston, now Quincy. Its policy 
differs radically from the rest of New Eng¬ 
land, both in theory and in practice. Its 

leaders are men who have imagined a philos- 

59 


60 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS * 


ophy of pleasure, and have come here to the 
new world to try and act it out. In spite of 
its Puritan neighbors, the banner staff of 
Merry Mount is the frivolous Maypole. 

Suddenly, in the midst of the wild frolic, ar¬ 
rives Governor Endicott of the Massachusetts 
Bay Colony and some friends. They are stern 
and bigoted Puritans, and are horrified at the 
antics of the masques. 

As if Endicott was a dread magician, the 
fun and dancing stop. The bedizened throng 
gather about him, with angry, frightened looks. 

Why should Governor Endicott interfere 
with this amusement and gayety? 

Because it was a vital question whether light¬ 
hearted irresponsibility was to prevail in New 
England—or sober, God-fearing toil. 

“ The future complexion of New England 
was involved in this important quarrel.” 

Governor Endicott draws his sword and cuts 
down the Maypole, crying: 

“ There lies the only Maypole in New Eng¬ 
land.” 

It fell with a shower of rose-leaves. 

Tradition says that, as it sank, a shadow 
reached out from the New England woods, to 
fall upon the land. 



“HE HAS KEPT THE FIRE BURN¬ 
ING ALL THE WAY! ” 

SAID OF PAZZI, THE FOOL, ONE OF THE 
FOUNDERS OF THE GREAT PAZZI 
FAMILY OF ITALY 

We stand in the dust and stones of a Con¬ 
tinental roadside—long centuries ago-—to 
watch the return of the Crusaders. 

The glitter of arms; the musical clash of 
armor; the martial tramp of horses. The long, 
long lines push on. 

Knights and monks—squires and pages and 
men-at-arms. The uncounted stragglers and 
camp followers. The flashing, crowded ranks. 

Ever above them float the banners with the 
Emblem in honor of which they have fought. 

In the midst of the procession is a strange- 
looking group. 

Pazzi—the Fool! 

Yes, a fool—for see what the man is trying 
to do! 

He rides an ass, with his back to the ani¬ 
mal’s ears. The ass is being led, lest it go 
astray, for its rider’s whole attention is bent 

upon a lighted taper which he carries and 

61 






62 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

which he shields with his own body from every 
breath of air. 

A glow of exultation is on Pazzi’s lean, hand¬ 
some face, and in his dark eyes that have the 
mixed passion and languor of the South. He 
will succeed in his self-imposed mission. He 
will keep this sacred fire lighted, which he has 
taken from the Shrine at Jerusalem- 

In and out of fords; up and down hills; 
camping under the lonely stars; marching the 
streets of foreign cities—still Pazzi guards 
with his body the fire of his taper. Until at 
last he carries it safe to the Duomo of his 
native city of Florence. 

“ He has kept the fire burning all the way! ” 

Ever thereafter it is kept burning—tended 
by pious love. 

Ever thereafter, on Easter Eve, a dove flies 
from the High Altar of the Duomo to light 
the car of fireworks—the Carro dei Pazzi— 
which burns in the square. 

Even still it is so tended—that fire which 
burned in the heart and the hand of Pazzi—the 
Fool of God. 








“AN OPPRESSIVE GOVERNMENT 
IS MORE TO BE FEARED 
THAN A TIGER ” 

CONFUCIUS, THE GREAT SAGE OF CHINA, 

550-478 b. c. 

Confucius, the Sage, journeys through the 
country. 

Of the highest lineage of China, cultivated, 
winning, devoted, Confucius has drawn to 
himself crowds of disciples. These he instructs 
by quiet discourses, choosing examples from 
every-day happenings. 

But unlike almost every other great moral 
teacher, Confucius founds no religion. He 
does not demand that men shall worship him. 

The travelers pace slowly through sun and 
shade. Beautiful flowering shrubs surround 
their path, and on the hillsides stretch terraces 
of tea-plants. They approach a lonely and 
rocky field and see a woman weeping at a 
grave. Confucius sends one of his followers to 
ask for whom she mourns. 

The woman comes to fall at the Sage’s feet 
and relates a grisly story. 

On this spot, she explains, her husband’s 

father was killed by a tiger. The fierce beast 

63 


64 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


continued to lurk in the neighborhood, and 
some months later, sprang upon her husband 
and killed him also. And now—now, the tiger 
only the day before has killed her son. 

But why, demands Confucius, did they lin¬ 
ger in so fatal a spot? And why does she, her¬ 
self, still remain? 

Meekly she replies that here there is no 
oppressive government. 

The Sage turns to his disciples—■“ Remem¬ 
ber,’’ he says, “ an oppressive government is 
more to be feared than a tiger.” 

It was indeed for the principles of good gov¬ 
ernment that Confucius mainly contended. 
They were his dearest hope. 

He believed that “ given the model ruler, the 
model people would appear.” He himself 
would make this model ruler! 

To this end he strove. 

Until the close of his life, he would not aban¬ 
don the endeavor to help his native land to 
right rules of government. 

Then, on his death-bed, he sighed: 

“No intelligent ruler arises to take me as 
his master.” 

Adding tragically: 

“ I have prayed a long time.” 


“ IF WE MUST FIGHT, LET US 
FIGHT FOR OURSELVES!” 

SPARTACUS, LEADER OF THE GLADIA¬ 
TORIAL WAR AGAINST ROME, 73 b. c. 

Slaves made gladiators! 

Imperial Rome for nearly two hundred 
years of wars has sold into slavery the captives 
of conquered towns, until it has been esti¬ 
mated that there is one slave to every five free 
men in Rome. 

Often the slaves are of noble birth, warriors 
and aristocrats in their own countries, sold to 
a fate sometimes worse than the death from 
which the avarice of their masters saves them. 

Many of the men are trained as gladiators, 
whose muscles are iron and whose hearts flint. 
They are taught to stand their ground before 
the wild beasts of the arena and not to lower 
their gaze before the glare of a lion’s ferocious 
eyeballs. 

They butcher each other by the thousands, 
these gladiators, before the roaring audiences 
of the amphitheater—“ to make a Roman Holi¬ 
day” 

In this year 73 b. c., one of the bravest and 

65 


66 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


boldest of their number is a young captive 
Thracian named Spartacus. 

To his free, bounding spirit, the life of a 
slave is so unbearable that he incites his fel¬ 
lows to revolt. 

A large band of the slaves led by Spartacus 
escape and take refuge on Mount Vesuvius. 

There they are joined by desperate men of 
all kinds—brigands, other escaped slaves—un¬ 
til their forces are counted by the thousands. 

Spartacus, in a romantic, guerrilla warfare, 
leads his men clambering down the precipices 
and away—across Italy. 

Constantly he reminds his companions that 
the Romans had trained them to kill, and: 

“If we must fight, let us fight for our- 
selves! ” 

During the next two years, Spartacus fought 
his way back and forth across Italy, almost to 
the Alps. 

Freedom was in sight! 

However, there could be but one ending. 

The slaves were finally overwhelmed and an¬ 
nihilated. 

Spartacus, at the beginning of the last fray, 
stabbed his horse so that he would have no 
means of escape—and fell, sword in hand. 




“ WE HAVE MET THE ENEMY AND 
THEY ARE OURS ” 


LIEUTENANT OLIVER HAZARD PERRY, 

1785-1819 

At the Battle of Lake Erie 

It is the War of 1812. 

A handful of pygmy vessels are afloat on 
the placid waters of picturesque Lake Erie. 
They are commanded by a young officer who 
has never yet heard the thunderous cannonade 
of a naval battle. He is the Rhode Islander, 
Oliver Hazard Perry. 

Now! The British are in sight. Their ves¬ 
sels come on, like veterans to the fight. 

Perry on the quarter-deck of his flag-ship, 
the Laurence , has by his side his young brother, 
only thirteen, but as eager for the fray as are 
the men. 

It is high noon—the battle is general. 

Four vessels attack the Laurence at once, 
pouring in a destructive fire. Officers and men 
fall, horribly mutilated, dead—dying. 

One of the surgeons who served in the cock¬ 
pit on that dreadful day relates that Perry 

called down the hatchway, asking the surgeon’s 

67 



68 HISTORY'S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

mates themselves to “ come on deck and work 
the guns.” 

All went who could by any possibility be 
spared. 

Then Perry called again, “ Can any of the 
wounded pull a rope? ” he pleaded. 

Several poor shattered fellows staggered on 
deck, and gave what last expiring strength 
they had. 

But the gallant flag-ship is doomed. 

Accordingly Perry and his little brother 
spring into a rowboat. Perry wraps his battle- 
flag about his body and, standing erect in the 
stern, steers straight through the center of the 
fight. 

They reach safely the consort ship, the 
Niagara. The battle-flag flies to her mast- 
head ; she plunges into the thick of the battle. 

It was from her deck that Perry won the 
Battle of Lake Erie; from her deck that he 
wrote, on the back of an old letter to his com¬ 
manding officer: 

4 4 We have met the enemy and they are 
ours.” 

And the British flag-ship, the Detroit, yields 
to the crippled Laurence in her almost helpless 
condition! 



Perry’s Victory on Lake Erie. 







“ I, TOO, AM A PAINTER! ” 


ANTONIO ALLEGRI, CALLED CORREGGIO, 

1494-1534 

Said on first seeing a painting of Raphael’s 

The interior of a church in old-world Bo¬ 
logna. 

The dim light is full of the palpable softness 
of shadows, and the air is trembling with the 
fragrance of incense. Down far aisles from 
the High Altar rosy flakes of radiance flicker, 
to touch jeweled shrines and gleam on gilded 
statues. 

The young Antonio Allegri, called Correg¬ 
gio from his native town, is standing before a 
painting. He is lost in rapt and delighted con¬ 
templation. 

It is the painting of a fair girl saint, who 
in the midst of a pious earthly company listens 
to the music of Heavenly visitants. On radiant 
wings, through cloven clouds, angels have 
come. 

Of course it is the representation of an actual 
event. For does not the old story tell that the 
playing of Saint Cecilia brought angels down 

to listen to her strains of praise and teach her 

69 


70 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


others? Does not this picture prove it? Has 
not the Master Raphael delineated the very 
musical instruments with which the melodious 
miracle was performed? 

For years Correggio has longed to see a 
painting by the great Raphael. Now his hopes 
and expectancy are more than fulfilled by this 
wonderful creation before him. 

Correggio’s life has been singularly isolated. 
He has had little chance to study the works of 
other painters. He has labored conscientiously 
at his art, and been very successful. But it 
has been in a small circle. He is almost un¬ 
known beyond his own district of country, in 
the territory of Modena. 

And yet—and yet—he has always had suf¬ 
ficiency of employers and orders. Lovely 
paintings were those of his brush, and he could 
not but know it. 

He gazes upon this picture by one of the 
world’s acknowledged masters, and suddenly 
he cries: 

“ I, too, am a painter! ” 

It was the calm self-confidence of an artist 
who has measured his productions by the 
standards of beauty and truth. 



“ THIS LITTLE RIVULET YIELDS 
ITS DISTANT TRIBUTE TO THE 
PARENT OCEAN” 

IN DIARY OF LEWIS AND CLARK EXPEDI¬ 
TION, 1805 

The top of the last rise has been laboriously 
scaled. 

This is the Continental Divide, the great 
range of Rocky Mountains which separates 
the Continent of North America into two 
parts. 

Breathless and awed, the little band of ex¬ 
plorers and their Indian guides stand beside 
their leaders, Meriwether Lewis and William 
Clark. What a view! Far, far distances of 
unpeopled forests, with the fascination and 
mystery of their primal freshness. The wind 
sings on the spicy air, reverberating with 
woodland perfumes. 

Behind the explorers are the long miles of 
unmapped, wonderful country which they are 
the first white men to cross, and each inch of 
which they have covered with wearisome 
marches, or work at paddle and pole on 

tempestuous streams. For many months they 

71 


72 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


have climbed and slid and toiled. They have 
camped to feast on wild game—or starve on 
roots dug from underneath the snow. 

The Indians had helped them at times. But 
the white men had never known when their 
dusky friends would treacherously turn against 
them, and harassing watchfulness had been 
necessary. 

Now the thrilling moment has arrived to 
solve a question, which at the beginning of the 
nineteenth century greatly interested scientific 
men, geographers and surveyors. Where do 
the rivers of the farther sides of the Rocky 
Mountains go? Do they empty into the 
Pacific Ocean? If not, then where do they go? 

Here is a spring of the clearest, most limpid 
mountain water, which shall show. Eagerly 
Lewis and Clark bend over it. 

See—see! Follow the rippling of its tiny 
rivulet. It is true! Its waters flow the other 
way! Into the West—it follows the course of 
the sun. It rushes to the bosom of its father, 
the blue Pacific. 

From dim, far-away fastnesses: 

“ This little rivulet yields its distant tribute 
to the parent ocean.” 




“ WAR TO THE KNIFE ” 


JOSE DE PALAFOX, DUKE OF SARAGOSSA, 

1780-1847 

Answer to the French General at the siege of 

Saragossa 

War —bitter war—war that has already 
taken a terrible toll of our men and even of 
our heroic women. But war that shall continue 
in all its terrors, ere we yield to the invader. 

Look at the ravage of the reeking plains 
about the walls of this our fair Spanish city, 
Saragossa! See the unburied slain, their bodies 
covered with blood’s unbleaching stains, and the 
vultures drifting through the thick and viscid 
smoke. 

Thousands and tens of thousands of our peo¬ 
ple lie dead from the wounds of battle and 
from the pestilence that follows in its gory 
train. 

Our young Duke Palafox, hardly more than 
a boy, still animates our patriotic defense 
against the French, under Napoleon’s officers. 
He inspires our resistance to the curst foreign 
oppressor who seeks to overwhelm us. 

He reminds us of the proud derivation of 

73 


74 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Saragossa. Its Roman founders long ago 
called it Caesar-Augustus, and it must retain 
its proud title of emperor among cities. 

Palafox flings his gallant answer to the 
French commander: “ War to the knife.” 

We retire from the outer barricades; from 
the fortress itself; back through the streets— 
until half Saragossa is in the hands of the 
French—and still we fight! 

Priests kneel to confront the foe with the 
Crucifix, holding the Blessed Symbol on high, 
against the horrid wind of the bursting shells. 

Women caught up by the noble thrill of 
patriotism, their black eyes flashing under their 
long black hair, swarm to the defense. 

Who so well as they can avenge a fallen 
lover? Who so eagerly appease the ghosts of 
the beloved dead? Weak and delicate though 
their frames may be, their spirits are intrepid. 
The tender fierceness of those maids of Sara¬ 
gossa was led by one Maria Agustin—whose 
name is forever wreathed in laurels. 

After sixty-one days the siege is over, for the 
French withdraw. 

But, alas, they are to return! 



“ WILL YOU JOIN MY REGIMENT?” 

COLONEL JENKINS, COMMANDING THE 

GUIDES, 1878 

Said to Afghan warrior 

It is not often that a soldier is decorated by 
his enemy: 

We are high up in the Khyber Pass, British 
India. Our regiment of British Guides has 
had a terrifically hard climb up over the rocks 
and shale. 

Here we make our stand, holding the Pass, 
keeping back the hordes of natives who swarm 
upon us. They seem to spring from every¬ 
where; from nowhere. The very mountains 
teem with them. 

Fine fellows they are, too, these Afghan 
warriors! Again and again they press for¬ 
ward, although scores are shot down. 

Now they are sweeping up with a splendid 
squadron of their cavalry, the Kazilbash Horse, 
to contest once more the Pass. 

What a charge! Some of them have won 
through our lines, and away! 

But who is this? 

Alone, in the rear of the charging files, ap- 

75 


76 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

pears a solitary cavalier. He and his beautiful 
horse advance with dignified calmness, into the 
very hell of our raking fire. Extraordinary 
that they are not hit. They continue to ad¬ 
vance, and the man is seen to wave his sword 
in cool defiance. 

The Colonel of the Guides, himself the 
bravest and most gallant of men, thrills to the 
Afghan’s courage. Here is a man after his 
own heart! 

He gives the quick order, “ Cease fire!” 
Then he sends one of the Guides to bring the 
Afghan warrior to him. 

The man with his sword still in his hand 
stands haughtily before the British Comman¬ 
der. 

“ I am a Warrior of the Sword,” he ex¬ 
plains, “ and I fear nothing.” 

“You are the kind we want,” exclaims the 
Colonel. “ Will you join my regiment? ” 

“ Yes,” replies the man with the true East¬ 
erner’s lack of words. 

He is immediately “ lanced for bravery on 
the field.” 

Thus a Warrior of the Sword, late of the 
Kazilbash Horse, becomes a Lance-Sergeant 
in the British Guides. 


“ NOT ANGLES—BUT ANGELS ” 

POPE GREGORY THE FIRST, SURNAMED 
THE GREAT, 540-604 

Said in the slave market at Rome 

The Slave Market at Rome, in early medie¬ 
val days! 

A place of horror! Despair welters here, in 
blistering heat and filth. Men, women and 
children are exposed for humiliating barter 
and sale. Many are wounded or ill; most are 
clothed in rotting rags. 

Some of the slaves are sullen and brutalized 
into callousness. Others are cringing and ab¬ 
ject, whining out the tale of their sufferings. 

But among them there are a few who bear 
themselves with dignity and fortitude, the in¬ 
eradicable marks of high breeding. 

Of this last class is a group of blond youths. 
Their fair skin and golden hair make them 
conspicuous among their dusky companions. 
Their thoughts must have been with their far- 
away island home—its cool green woods and 
blossoming fields. 

The populace surges by, careless of the 

slaves’ misery. Now and then a gorgeously 

77 



78 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


robed patrician stops to purchase a slave for 
his household. Or an officer in gilded armor 
picks out a dozen men. 

At last with quiet steps a certain holy monk 
approaches. He pauses to bestow a meed of 
gentle sympathy on the sad scene. His hands 
which, we are told, were of “ surpassing 
beauty,” move in benediction. 

His attention is attracted by the blond 
youths. He asks who they are, and is told 
that they are Angles. 

“Not Angles—but angels,” the good man 
answers, “for they have the faces of angels 
and should be co-heirs with the angels in 
Heaven.” 

From that moment the monk determines to 
convert to Christianity these fair lads’ people. 
For they are heathens and worship strange 
gods. They bow at strange altars, beneath vast 
oaks, on desolate heaths. 

Later when, as Pope Gregory the First, vast 
power lay in those beautiful hands of his, he 
did not forget the Angles. He despatched a 
mission to their distant foggy land. 

Thus arose the name of a great nation. 


“ ECLIPSE FIRST—THE REST 
NOWHERE!” 

COLONEL DENNIS O’KELLY, 1720-1787 

Said at Epsom Races 

They’re off! They’re off! 

Steel muscles moving under satin coats; 
wide nostrils full of foam; glaring eyeballs! 

The second heat of the great race of 1769, 
at Epsom Downs, has begun. The stakes are 
the Queen’s Plate, fifty guineas in cash. 

The spectators leap to their feet. They 
jostle and push each other by the race course 
sides. What a mad pace! The horses are run¬ 
ning so that they appear almost flat—as if they 
were poured along the ground. 

The dashing young Irishman, Dennis 
O’Kelly, sways with the crowd. He tries to 
steady his field-glasses, to follow his pic¬ 
turesque racing colors, scarlet jacket and black 
cap. His all is invested in his share of the 
noble five-year-old stallion Eclipse—an almost 
untried and quite unfamous horse. 

There he is—the darlint! The brilliant 
chestnut, whose coat shines iridescent in the 

sun. Large and powerfully built, his small 

79 




80 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

head, which shows his Arabian stock, is lowered, 
and the one white stocking on his off hind foot 
rises and falls in flashing rhythm. 

Will he run—the crayture? Run? Sure, 
his jockey couldn’t hold him if he wanted to! 
Deil a whip has ever been laid on Eclipse, nor 
has he ever felt the tickling of a spur! 

O’Kelly is risking more than the price of the 
horse. For, confident after the first heat of 
Eclipse’s possibilities, he has bet heavily that 
he would 44 place all the horses in the second 
heat.” A crazy bet which was eagerly taken 
up. 

In heat races, a flag was dropped after the 
winner passed the post, and all horses that 
were not within two hundred yards were ig¬ 
nored by the judge. 

What—the race is over? Who wins? 
Eclipse! Eclipse! 

And Dennis O’Kelly has won his bet. For 
when Eclipse passed the winning post, not a 
competing horse was within the requisite dis¬ 
tance. 

44 Didn’t I say it? ” shouts O’Kelly. 
44 Eclipse first—the rest nowhere! ” 



“ I WILL GIVE WAY TO CUSTOM ” 

CROWN PRINCE FREDERICK WILLIAM OF 

PRUSSIA, 1770-1840 

Said to the Mistress of Robes 

What? Not see his wife, his adored sweet¬ 
heart, whenever he chose? Be bound by irk¬ 
some rules of Court etiquette? Visit her 
morning-room only when announced and her¬ 
alded by ceremonious palavers? 

Nonsense! 

The young Prince was disgusted with the 
whole formal fuss! 

Crown Prince Frederick William of Prussia 
had been lately married to the Princess Louise 
of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. She was one of the 
most beautiful as well as charming women of 
her time. 

But the trammels of Court usages hampered 
the young lovers with the onerous grip of tradi¬ 
tion. 

The Prince lounges impatiently, tapping his 
boot with his riding-switch, although a smile 
lurks in the corners of his mouth. Before him 
stands the Countess von Voss, Mistress of 
Robes. Every furbelow of her stiff Court dress 
bristles with horror. 

Surely, His Highborn Excellency must 

81 


82 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

realize that the dreadful insubordination and 
kindred evils which are overturning political 
and social institutions have their beginning in 
the disregard of etiquette. 

Oh! Can this be true! 

The Prince wilts under the starched sen¬ 
tences. 

All right—all right! He waves his hand. 

“ I will give way to custom/’ he declares. 
“ Be so good as to precede me, Countess, to 
inquire if I may speak with my Royal Con¬ 
sort.” 

The triumphant old lady departs on her im¬ 
portant mission. With due decorum, she 
slowly enters Princess Louise’s apartments. 

But what is this she sees! 

The agile young Prince has rushed up the 
private staircase and entered his wife’s boudoir 
by another door. He is hanging enraptured 
over his wife’s chair. Against his arm rest her 
fair curls among which glisten flowers of dia¬ 
monds on black velvet. Her sweet eyes smile 
up at her hero—her husband. A charming 
picture. 

It is on record that the good old Countess 
von Voss was “ disconcerted,” but that both 
young lovers merrily joined in consoling her. 




“A SUBTERRANEAN AVENUE 
LEADS TO CHANDRA-GtJPTA’S 
SLEEPING-CHAMBER! ” 

SAID BY CHANAKYA, A BRAHMAN 
About 321 b. c. 

Chandra-gIjpta, Emperor of India, has 
moved his sleeping chamber again. 

In fact, he never occupies the same bedroom 
two nights in succession. He knows too much! 
He would not otherwise have climbed, as he 
has, from the condition of a nobody to that 
of one of the World’s Great Rulers. For only 
such perpetual precautions save his life from 
being stabbed out some night by the hands of 
his implacable enemies. 

Outside the Emperor’s Pavilion, his Guards 
stand sternly to their watch and ward. Within 
the quiet chamber, lit by shaded torches, golden 
lotus blossoms in golden bowls perfume the 
air. By the silk-covered couch of the sleeping 
Chandra-gupta sits the Brahman Chanakya, 
his dearest friend and councilor. Drowsily 
Chanakya’s glance strays about the peaceful 
scene. 

He notices a caravan of ants. The tiny 

creatures are moving in the methodical man- 

83 


84 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

ner of their kind, in a long line. Each one 
carries a crumb. Idly Chanakya watches them. 

Suddenly he starts forward, to watch the 
ants with horrified curiosity. 

The next instant his cry rings out: 

“ A subterranean avenue leads to Chandra- 
gupta’s sleeping-chamber! ” 

Up starts the Emperor. 

In dash the Guards. 

“ What has happened-? ” 

“ What is the matter-? ” 

“ See, see! ” points Chanakya. “ The ants! ” 

As the others stare in amazement, he gasps: 

“ The ants are carrying crumbs. Then— 
then the bread from which they stole the 
crumbs must be near, and where are the men 
who are eating that bread? I tell you, they 
have dug beneath the Pavilion.” 

So indeed it proved. 

According to the ruthless customs of the 
East, orders were given to burn the Pavilion. 
The men under it—brave albeit assassins—per¬ 
ished in the flames. 

Were the ants burned, too? Or did they 
escape, to go calmly about their business un¬ 
witting of the humans whose affairs they had 
so greatly influenced? 




“IF THE PEOPLE LACK BREAD, 
WHY NOT GIVE THEM CAKE? ” 


QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE OF FRANCE, 

1755-1793 

Said at the beginning of the French Revolution 

Jeweled, perfumed, radiant, Marie An¬ 
toinette, Queen of France, idles through the 
pageants which are her days, and the revels 
which are her nights. 

She is surrounded by the luxury of the most 
frivolous of Courts. A luxury which is mon¬ 
strous in the extravagance and lavishness of its 
splendor. Dissolute and fascinating men and 
women vie for her favor and one intrigue after 
another spreads its glittering meshes about the 
Queen’s heedless steps. 

Without her palace walls, stark famine and 
disease swarm menacing. Pale, haggard skele¬ 
tons stalk in groups, and the rumble of their 
raging rises above the ragged huddles of their 
bodies. 

“ Bread! ” they mutter. 4 ‘ Give us bread —” 
and their voices sink in the exhaustion of star¬ 
vation. 

Is the diamond-clasped plume or the tur- 

85 


86 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


quoise most becoming? Shall we dance at the 
Pavilion of the Petit Trianon, dressed as 
Nymphs of the Glades? Which Cavalier shall 
we honor with our hand for the feast? And 
where is that rose-drenched billet-doux for the 
Mask wearing a knot of rose-colored ribbon? 
These are the questions which Marie An¬ 
toinette and her ladies discuss, their soft laugh¬ 
ter caressed by the music of low lutes. 

But the tumult of suffering without grows 
nearer, clamors more insistently. The pop¬ 
ulace of Paris has turned itself into a grey, 
heaving sea, flecked with pallid, wolfish faces. 
It beats against the Palace, and the voice of 
its crying is “ Bread—bread.” Courtiers and 
ministers, aye, the very King himself, must 
needs listen, shuddering, to the swelling horror. 

The Queen turns her graceful head to listen 
too. Then she smiles gently. How foolish to 
interrupt our pleasures for even a moment’s 
consideration, when the problem presented is so 
simple of solution! 

Her sweet voice says daintily: 

“If the people lack bread, why not give them 
cake? ” 

The roots are here—which grow into the 
tree that forms the guillotine! 



'lit* 



Queen Marie Antoinette 
On her Way to the Guillotine. 






“THIS JOURNEY STANDS ALONE 

IN HISTORY ” 

SAID OF THE BURIAL JOURNEY OF DAVID 
LIVINGSTONE, 1813-1873 

In his hut of rushes, in the African swamp, 
David Livingstone kneels by his bedside in the 
attitude of prayer—but cold and dead! He 
was the discoverer of Central Africa; a great 
Missionary, and one of the chief instigators of 
the abolishment of the Slave Trade. 

His few faithful blacks have crept in, to find 
him thus. Outside, the rain drips with dismal 
monotony. Mist drifts coldly over the mud 
and elephant grass, and the pale yellow sedges 
by the shores of the stream seem like ghosts of 
green branches. 

The white man must rest with his people. 

To the simple-hearted natives, this fact ad¬ 
mits of no misinterpretation. They have been 
converted by their dead master, and they know 
that a Christian must lie in consecrated ground. 

David Livingstone’s body must be taken to 
the English settlement at the coast. As there 

is no other means of locomotion, they must 

87 


88 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

carry their beloved dead across Africa in their 
arms. 

They embalm the body as best they can, 
by drying it for days in the sun. Then wrap 
it in calico and enclose it in the bark of a 
Myonga tree. 

Miles and miles in cold and heat. Miles and 
miles through spongy swamps, in which they 
sink waist deep at every step. Miles and miles 
through gloomy forests, following the paths 
made by wild beasts, and fording countless 
streams below their drinking-holes. 

Several of the men fall ill in the fever-laden 
districts. They have trouble with other na¬ 
tives. At one village, opposition is shown to a 
corpse passing through it, so that the faithful 
blacks are obliged to conceal it in a bale of 
goods. 

For nine long months they walk. 

At last, after more than one thousand miles, 
they reach Zanzibar. 

The astounded Englishmen who reverently 
receive the body of their distinguished country¬ 
man pay tribute to the faithful blacks— 

“ This journey stands alone in history.” 


“ PRESS WHERE YE SEE MY 
WHITE PLUME SHINE!” 

KING HENRY IV OF FRANCE, 1553-1610 
Said at the Battle of Ivey 

How fearful are the odds against our 
Huguenot forces! 

Company on company, we see the stout in¬ 
fantry ranged in solid ranks. Troop on troop 
of steeds are plunging under their heavily- 
mailed riders. 

Alas! These are our own countrymen. The 
same blood of dear France flows in their veins, 
and we must strive in that most cruel of all 
wars—a Religious and Civil one. 

We fight that our leader, Henry of Navarre, 
may gain his rightful heritage: the throne of 
France. Opposed to us are the soldiery of the 
League, wishing to make Cardinal de Bourbon 
King. 

But see! Huzza! The King himself has 
come to marshal us! Henry of Navarre’s 
gallant head is held high and his dark-grey 
eyes flash keen as a hawk’s. His white plume 
gleams above his bright armor. His look and 

mien of vitality is so sparkling that the very 

89 


90 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


air about him seems to tingle, and the force of 
him flows out to lift us all to high enthusiasm 
of endeavor. 

Follow him to the death? Aye, that is a 
small thing to do for such a man—such a sol¬ 
dier—such a King! For here is a King in¬ 
deed! Our acclaims ring out. 

With proud glances along his small but 
heroic battle array, Henry of Navarre bids his 
men mark and remember what he says. If his 
standard-bearer, who carries close behind him 
the Golden Lilies of France, falls—and fall he 
well may in the terrible struggle ahead of 
them—then follow the helmet of Navarre. 

“ The Helmet of Navarre,” he cries, “ shall 
be your oriflamme to-day. 

“ Press where ye see my white plume shine! ” 

And follow we do, that oriflamme, that 
standard, unsullied as Heaven’s white clouds. 
Follow, till Henry of Navarre’s white plume 
has wafted us to victory, and the Battle of Ivry 


is ours. 



“ WHERE ARE THEY?” 


SAID BY BRITISH SAILORS OF THE UNITED 
STATES SHIP CONSTITUTION 
War op 1812 

Our enemies’ ships are closing in upon us. 

We—on board the United States ship Con¬ 
stitution —cannot fight a whole fleet. We must 
flee—that we may live to fight another day! 

But we are hard put to it to escape, for there 
is little or no wind. 

Our beautiful ship poises like a sea-gull. 
Her white sails are all set wide to catch the 
faintest breeze, like wings in the pale light. 

No wind! No wind! 

It is next to impossible to maintain a steer¬ 
ageway. 

We bring buckets of water and throw on 
the sails, to make them hold the wind. The 
gleaming streams splash high against the can¬ 
vas. 

Still our enemies pursue, hour after hour. 

We send our small boats ahead, to tow. 
Manfully, desperately, our sailors pull and 
strain at the oars, till their hearts are like to 
burst asunder. “ Old Ironsides ” is hard to 
tug! 


91 




92 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Still no wind. What are the soundings? 

Twenty-five to thirty fathoms, sir. 

No matter—we must try, as a last hope, 
the device known as “ hedging.” 

We make fast a light anchor to all available 
rope on board; carry it ahead and drop it. 
Now—warp in on the windlass. 

This, an extraordinary piece of seamanship 
in such deep water, helps. We creep ahead. 

What now? 

Clouds heaping up to windward. They 
swoop with sudden frightful menace. 

Wind—nay, a hurricane! 

Our commander, Captain Hull, is equal to 
even this emergency. 

Ostentatiously, the Constitution is made 
ready for a gale, that her enemies may think 
her about to ride it out, close-reefed. 

Now, fog and driving sheets of rain swirl 
down in a merciful curtain, which hides us 
from peering British eyes. Quick! Unfurl 
every reef and slip away. 

The storm over, the fog lifts. 

“ Where are they? ” gasj:> astonished British 
tars. 

Safe in Boston—after a chase of sixty-four 
hours! 


“ THE REFLECTION OF WHAT MAN 
HAS DONE ABIDES FOREVER 
IN THE LIGHT ” 

ZOROASTER, ABOUT 1000 b. c. 

One of his sayings 

A far cave, among precipitous and lonely 
mountains. 

The air of this cave is quiet; very serene and 
coolly fresh. There are no shadows in the dim¬ 
ness. 

In the midst of the floor there is a boulder, 
like a great ball of black marble. 

A young man enters with slow step. 

His extraordinarily tall body moves with the 
matchless grace which men had when the world 
was young. His face is fair, with the paleness 
of the student and recluse, and his deep eyes 
are supremely calm and thoughtful. 

It is Zoroaster, the Persian Mystic. 

He is in the ecstatic poise of founding a new 
religion. A religion which became the founda¬ 
tion of the teachings of the Magi, and which 
survives to-day among the Parsees of India. 

With even steps, Zoroaster approaches the 

black boulder. It becomes an altar as he bends 

93 


94 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


over it. He lays his long hands upon the 
smooth surface and draws them slowly to¬ 
gether. 

Lo! A wondrous thing takes place. A light 
springs softly up and a fire is born between 
his fingers. Higher and higher rises the flame, 
until it culminates and stands like a blazing 
arrow of incandescent gold. It emits a steady 
white effulgence that sheds an unearthly radi¬ 
ance over Zoroaster’s peaceful form and, flow¬ 
ing out of the cave, darkens the sunlight. 

This tall and pointed flame is immovable. 
It neither rises nor falls when Zoroaster takes 
away his hands; neither does it flicker. 

Zoroaster teaches in his mysticism that what 
he calls the “ Universal Agent ” is a subtle and 
all-pervading fluid or essence, of which the 
phenomena Light, Heat, and Vitality are but 
gross, or earthly manifestations. 

He stands now, in the inactivity which is a 
mode of perfect motion, before the Flaming 
Light which he has called forth. He adores it 
as one of the symbols of the “ Universal 
Agent.” He murmurs: 

“ The reflection of what man has done abides 
forever in the light.” 


“ I’LL BELIEVE IN THE MERMAID, 

AND HIRE IT ” 

PHINEAS TAYLOR BARNUM, 1810-1891 

Said on conteacting for the Fiji Mermaid 

“ I’ll believe in the mermaid, and hire it.” 

Yes, but the question is: Will the public be¬ 
lieve in the mermaid enough to pay twenty- 
five cents to see it? 

P. T. Barnum, showman, museum proprie¬ 
tor, circus manager, was always quite ready to 
believe—with his tongue in his cheek—in any 
kind of a “ freak ” out of which money could 
be made. In his “ Life, Written by Himself ” 
published in 1855, the jolly old man confesses 
with smug glee how he has “ humbugged ” 
and “ hoaxed ” people. 

A mermaid ? How absurd, my dear! There 

' •/ 

is no such thing as a mermaid. They don’t 
exist; never have existed. 

* 9 

Oh! but I assure you, there is a most charm¬ 
ing transparency of it, outside Mr. Barnum’s 
American Museum, representing the exquisite 
sea-creature of which we have all read in 

legend and poetry. Half fish, half woman, it 

95 


96 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 1 

is eight feet long, with glorious hair streaming 
over its white shoulders. 

Really? How marvelous! 

Yes, and for some time before exhibiting the 
mermaid, Mr. Barnum distributed—and at 
half-cost, too, wasn’t it nice of him?—pam¬ 
phlets proving the authenticity of mermaids! 
It is said that this one was taken in a fisher¬ 
man’s net, off the Fiji Islands and lived up¬ 
wards of three hours after being captured. 

Well, dear, since you urge it, I will go with 
you to see it. 

What the ladies really saw was an ugly, 
black-looking specimen of dried-up monkey 
and fish, about three feet long. Y r et it was 
somehow thrilling! 

P. T. Barnum, years afterwards, compla¬ 
cently remarks that he supposes some Japanese 
artist had “ nicely conjoined ” the monkey and 
fish, with great ingenuity. 

His belief in the public’s credulity was 
justified. 

The receipts of the American Museum for 
the four weeks immediately preceding the ex¬ 
hibition of the mermaid amounted to $1,272. 
During the first four weeks of the mermaid’s 
exhibition, the receipts amounted to $3,341.93. 


“ NOW IS MORTIMER LORD OF 
THIS CITY” 

JACK CADE, d. 1450 

Said as he struck his sword on London Stone 

A ragged multitude of base-born peasants. 
A mob of rebels—rebels against Henry VI of 
England. 

They surge wildly, riotously, gayly down 
the hedge-bordered lanes towards London. 
They brandish home-made weapons and sharp 
implements of labor. 

They have risen at the instigation of Richard 
Plantagenet, Duke of York, who is laying 
claim to the throne of England. 

Their leader is one Jack Cade, and Tie 
claims that he is son of Edmund Mortimer, 
Earl of March- 

Oh, never mind, lads, who Jack Cade may 
be! Has he not promised that when he is 
crowned King, we shall all eat and drink on 
his score? And that he will make it a felony 
to drink small beer? 

On to London! Death to all gentlemen and 
scholars! Kill and knock down—throw them 
into the Thames. 


97 



98 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


The mob is becoming larger and more for¬ 
midable. It sweeps all before it. 

Into London dash the rebels, with Jack 
Cade riding triumphant at their head. 

Follow me, my bully boys, and the conduits 
shall run claret for your comfort! 

Now they reach London Stone—that strange 
monument of prehistoric times. The Romans 
found it here when they came to Britain. 
They made it the center from which their great 
Roman roads radiated over all England, cor¬ 
responding to the Golden Milestone in the 
Forum at Rome. 

Jack Cade halts his band with the sudden, 
unforeseen reverence of the adventurer. To 
him, as well as to his half-taught followers, 
London Stone stands at once the guardian and 
the symbol of civic welfare. Lifting high his 
sword, Jack Cade brings it down with a ring¬ 
ing blow on London Stone, and cries aloud: 

“ Now is Mortimer Lord of this city.” 

Did he really believe that he was Mortimer? 

When he came to his death at the hands of 
his enemies, only a week later, he died like a 
brave man, and like the gentlemen he professed 
to despise. 



“ TO-MORROW’LL BE ANOTHER 

DAY!” 

VALDEMAR IV, KING OF DENMARK, 

1320-1375 

One of his habitual sayings 

A peasant maiden sits at her spinning- 
wheel, amidst the brilliant tulips. Her yellow 
curls toss above her blue kirtle and her wide, 
white sleeves. 

Who comes riding gayly, to draw sudden 
rein at her garden gate? A band of bold 
knights. The handsomest—he in the scarlet 
cloak with golden spur on heel—greets the 
blushing maiden, and swears he has loved her 
long. 

What words are these for the ears of a 
modest peasant lass! 

He calls her by her sweet name of little 
Elsie. He declares he will clasp wondrous 
gems about her throat, will she but accept his 
heart with the jewels. 

Demurely courtesies little Elsie. Then puts 
her noble wooer to rigorous tests. 

Will he doff his brave apparel, and wear 
simple fustian, as would become her peasant- 
husband? 

99 



100 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

The knight laughs and agrees—for her sake. 

Will he back no more his splendid war-horse, 
but hold the plough and drive the oxen? 

Y r es—so that she walk by his side. 

Then comes the final and real test: Will he 
break his knightly shield and forget its heraldic 
bearings? 

No—she has asked at last something no 
knight may do. 

Thus finally the roguish little Elsie betrays 
that she has seen his joke. 

For joke it was, and wager, that he, the 
knight, who is really King Valdemar, should 
win little Elsie from her troth-plight to his own 
young squire Henrik. 

Long and loud laughs the merry monarch. 
Away he rides with his followers, calling gayly 
back his favorite saying that won him the nick¬ 
name “ Atteday 

“ To-morrow’ll be another day! ” 

Out from concealment behind the roses 
springs Henrik. He clasps his darling little 
Elsie in his arms in triumph. For she is proven 
true, and the wealth of the wager is his. 

Back to the lovers floats the call of the heart- 
free King: 

Oh! yes—“ To-morrow’ll be another day! ” 



“ BRAG OF YOUR CATCH OF FISH 

AGAIN ” 


SAID BY SKIPPER IRESON 
Last part of Seventeenth Century 

Up the rough lane from the wharves lumbers 
a cart. It is whipped by the salt wind and 
followed by the wail of sea-gulls from out of 
the fog of the moaning sea. 

The cart is dragged—strange—by women. 
They tug and pull; their hair loose and their 
kerchiefs torn open with their frantic gestures, 
and their skirts blown and tumbled. Some 
have the burning blush of youth’s passion; 
others are haggard with curst age. 

What travesty of human form is this, crouch¬ 
ing, shamed, in the cart? 

A man. But a man whose stripped body is 
like a rained-on fowl. He is matted and be¬ 
slobbered all over with tar and with feathers; 
feathers that are ruffled and a-droop, of hens 
and chickens and owls. There are wings of 
turkeys fastened to his sides with slabs of tar 
that do not hide his nakedness. 

It is old Floyd Ireson, who, for his hard 

heart, is “ tarred and feathered and carried in 

101 




102 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


a cart ” by the women of Marblehead, on the 
stern coast of Massachusetts. 

The women are shrilling revengeful male¬ 
dictions at him; shouting; screeching. 

What has old Floyd Ireson done? 

He has committed a bitter crime, and one 
which fisher-folk never forgive. 

He has sailed away from a sinking ship and 
a ship with his own townspeople aboard, as he 
well knew. The doomed men hailed him, but 
Ireson’s hard heart froze. Why should he 
delay his catch of fish? why should he risk his 
own boat? He sailed away, and sailing, flung 
back a taunt to the sinking men: 

“ Brag of your catch of fish again.” 

But landing, Ireson was met by the women, 
whose husbands and sons and sweethearts had 
been left to drown by him. 

Thus thrust from his home, Floyd Ireson 
was always to hear in the sound of the sea the 
pitiful hail of the sinking men; and forever its 
spray on his cheeks was to seem the tears of 
their desolate women-folk. 


“ THE LIONS SPOILED THEM ALL 
—THE BEST DOG DIED THE 
NEXT DAY ” 

OLD CHRONICLE OF THE LIONS OF THE 
TOWER OF LONDON 
In Sixteenth Century 

One thing we must surely do, my dear, now 
that we are up from the country for a few 
days in London, and that is to go and see the 
lions at the Tower. 

King James is most interested in animals, 
I assure you. He gives his own royal atten¬ 
tion to their care and feeding. Is it not won¬ 
derful of his gracious Majesty? 

Why, it is said that he has some splendid 
white Gyrfalcons—whatever they may be— 
and silkworms and an elephant! 

Fancy! 

Yes, the elephant was brought through the 
streets of London at midnight to “ screen it 
from the vulgar gaze.” But some street- 
loiterers made such a clamor at the sight of its 
undreamt-of proportions that they roused the 
sleeping city. 

As for the lions—every one is allowed to go 

and see them at the Tower of London. 

103 




104 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Afraid? Oh, no! We need not be. 

There has been a regular place fixed for 
ferocious beasts, “ at this grim old seat of Eng¬ 
lish royalty ” for these last three hundred years 
or more. 

When the King and his courtiers come to 
see a fight, the trap-doors are open, and the 
lions are let out into an arena, and baited with 
bears or dogs. 

Only last week, I hear, some mastiffs were 
set upon the fiercest lions. 

“ The lions spoiled them all—the best dog 
died the next day.” 

There is a prettier tale. A live lamb was 
let down to the lions on a rope. The lamb, 
sweet, innocent creature, walked up to the 
lions, who very gently looked at him and 
smelled him, but did not hurt him at all! And 
the kind-hearted King ordered that the lamb 
should be safely drawn up again. 

So all travelers flocked to the Tower. Thus 
arose a proverbial saying: “The Lions!”— 
passing as an equivalent for any marvelous or 
important sight. 


“ THERE IS BUT ONE GOD, AND 
MAHOMET IS HIS PROPHET ” 

SALUTATION TO FOUNDER OF THE RE¬ 
LIGION OF ISLAM 
Seventh Century 

A man wrestles with the Lord in prayer. 

Long days and nights this man has spent 
in the solitude of a cavern on the side of a 
mountain, in meditation, fasting. 

He is no longer young. His expressive face 
is set in lines of deep thought which has been 
continuous through years of earnest seeking 
after truth. 

It is Mahomet- 

Without the cave, the high-skied desert 
stretches far away, and the peaceful stars look 
down. 

Mahomet is engrossed to the point of ob¬ 
session with the importance of religious reform 
for his race. He believes that the one true re¬ 
ligion was revealed to Adam and was prac¬ 
tised in the days of innocence. 

But how sadly men have wandered from the 
original purity of its teachings! 

From time to time prophets have arisen be¬ 
fore the Lord to reenlighten the people and to 

105 



106 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


lead them back to the paths of truth. Now in 
these latter days, another teacher is needed. 
Can it be that he—Mahomet, the camel-driver 
—is to be inspired to this great cause? 

The wind brings soft perfumes of night and 
of the freshness of trickling water. Perfumes 
were always to Mahomet an interpreter of the 
good and the beautiful. “ Fragrances render 
me more fervent,” he writes, “ in devotion.” 

He has worked himself up to the point of 
ecstasy—he swoons—his enemies say he has 
an epileptic fit! 

Now—the Angel Gabriel appears to him, 
and ratifies his self-appointment as “ the 
prophet of God.” 

That Mahomet believed in his divine mission 
we cannot doubt. 

On his descent from the mountain, he ex¬ 
plains his vision to a few devoted friends. 
They hail him: 

“ There is but one God, and Mahomet is His 
prophet.” 

Thus was founded Mohammedanism or, as 
Mahomet himself called it, Islam, meaning 
“ submission to the will of God,” which was to 
become one of the great religions of the world. 




“WHEN THE RAVENS CEASE TO 
FLY ROUND THE MOUNTAIN, 
BARBAROSSA SHALL AWAKE ” 

OLD LEGEND CONCERNING FREDERICK I, 
GERMAN EMPEROR, 1123-1190 

A mountain cave in Thuringia, Germany, 
holds Barbarossa, not dead but peacefully 
sleeping. At least so the old legend says. He 
is sitting in his chair of state, with his golden 
crown upon his head, and his beard growing 
down to his knees—to the ground. And round 
that mountain fly the ravens, birds of death. 

“ When the ravens cease to fly round the 
mountain, Barbarossa shall awake and restore 
Germany to its ancient greatness.” 

Great indeed was Germany in the days of 
Frederick I! He was stalwart of stature, with 
long, flaxen hair and a red beard, from which 
came his nickname of Barbarossa, or Red- 
beard. 

Magnificent, magnanimous man. 

Chosen King of Germany while still young, 
to succeed his uncle, his coronation as Roman 
Emperor followed. 

Barbarossa’s reign was a happy and pros- 

107 



108 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

perous time for his native land. Evil-doers 
were in terror, and there was praise for all well¬ 
doers. 

Although capable of cruelty at times, Bar- 
barossa on the whole governed with a clemency 
exceptional for his generation. 

Once there arose a question of punishing 
two quarreling nobles who were causing trou¬ 
ble and scandal. 

Barbarossa condemned each to walk to the 
other’s country, carrying a dog on his shoul¬ 
ders. They were to be followed by ten re¬ 
tainers each carrying a dog! 

Certainly a mild punishment which caused 
laughter rather than suffering. 

But how foolish the dogs must have felt! 

Barbarossa’s almost lifelong quarrel with 
the papacy was an inherited conflict. In no 
way did it reflect on his religious faith. 

In his old age, he led a hundred and fifty 
thousand men to the Crusade. He attacked 
the Moslem forces and defeated them in two 
great battles. 

One day in Asia Minor his army was cross¬ 
ing a bridge. They did not go fast enough to 
suit Barbarossa. He plunged his horse into 
the water to swim across—and was drowned. 



“ ONE OF THE BOOKS WAS COV¬ 
ERED WITH BLOOD ” 

SAID OF A COPY-BOOK BELONGING TO LADY 
RUSSELL’S LITTLE SON 
In Sixteenth Century 

Horrible —unnatural story! 

But the boy was a young devil—perfectly 
incorrigible. He simply would not study or 
improve himself, which was of all things most 
irritating to his refined and intellectual mother, 
Katharine, Lady Russell, one of four sisters, 
famous for their scholarship. 

Lady Russell could read and write Hebrew, 
Greek, and Latin, and compose poetry in all 
three languages! 

How maddening to her then when her 
young son would not learn to write properly. 
He seemed to have a particular repugnance to 
writing. 

“ He wilfully blots his copy-books in the 
most slovenly manner,” so his mother angrily 
complains. 

The lad was the son of Lady Russell by a 

former marriage. For one of those mysterious 

109 



110 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

inherent reasons, hidden in the inexplicable 
make-up of poor, erring, human souls, there 
was an antipathy between them. 

She beat him for his ill-written copy-books. 

More and more severe the beatings became. 
More and more stubborn the boy’s refusal to 
learn to write. 

Until at last—frightful to relate—Lady 
Russell beat her small son to death. 

Ever thereafter she—or rather her ghost— 
has been doomed to haunt the chamber in 
which the awful deed was committed. 

Clad in black with a pale, pale face, the 
tragic woman paces back and forth. Always 
before her feet flows a river and ever she strives 
to reach its cleansing water to wash away the 
stains of her child’s blood defiling her hands. 
But ever the river recedes, and its waves ebb 
before her weary footsteps. 

Is it all true? 

Why, only a few years ago, in altering a 
window shutter of that fatal room, a quantity 
of antique copy-books were discovered pushed 
between the joists—“and one of the books was 
covered with blood.” 

What further proof do you want—for a 
ghost story? 






“ KNOW THYSELF ” 


SOCRATES, ATHENIAN PHILOSOPHER, 

469-399 b. c. 

One of his precepts 

In the condemned cell a man waits. 

Across his window drifts cold moonlight. 
Now—a leaf flutters in, to lie under his quiet 
footfalls. High above in the serene air sounds 
the call of migratory birds as they fly free and 
far. Now—the sunrise challenges woe with a 
golden gauntlet. 

Socrates has been judged guilty, “ an of¬ 
fender against public morals,” and has been 
condemned to death. Socrates—whom future 
ages are to hail as one of the greatest of 
thinkers and moral teachers, the founder of 
Moral Philosophy. 

Ordinarily the criminal would drink a cup 
of hemlock on the day after his sentence. This 
was the Athenian custom. During the trip of 
the sacred ship, sent annually to the Oracle at 
Delphi, however, no one was put to death. 

Hence it happens that Socrates remains in 
imprisonment for thirty days. 

His friends visit him and with them he 

111 



112 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

holds, as usual, his wonderful discourses. 
Many persons love him in contradiction to the 
Greek belief that moral excellence is indicated 
by physical beauty. For Socrates is of awk¬ 
ward figure and homely face. His quaint sense 
of humor, of which his contemporaries speak, 
must have added to his charm. 

He describes his philosophy as regards death. 
Joyfully he welcomes it. For in the next 
world he hopes to be permitted to carry on his 
passionate search after truth. His courageous 
and lucid mind longs to probe all secrets of the 
universe. 

The analyzing of words and ideas down to 
their ultimate meaning Socrates insisted upon. 
This was among his chief contributions to 
original thought. He sums up much wonder¬ 
ful advice to restless man by the precept: 

44 Know thyself.” 

So we come to the last scene. 

Longing—Aspiration—Longing to know all 
and with knowledge—which is love—to com¬ 
fort his race. 

“ Socrates drinking the hemlock — 

Some of us call it Longing, and some of us 
call it God.” 





“ I SOLEMNLY VOW THAT I WILL 
NOT CUT OR COMB MY HAIR 
UNTIL THAT DAY ” 

HAROLD, KING OF NORWAY, 850-933 

Very young was Harold to be King of 
warring Norway. The country was divided 
into Fylkes—or Districts—each having its 
petty Kinglet. All were quarreling as to who 
should be chief among them. 

Harold’s thoughts were bent on sweeter 
things than fighting. One of the Kinglets had 
a fair daughter named Gy da. Gy da’s eyes 
sparkled like the icebergs of her native land, 
and its snows were not whiter than her bosom. 

Her beauty shook the young King’s heart, 
and he wooed her for himself. 

But Gyda repulsed him scornfully. 

“ Never ”—she declared—“ will I yield my¬ 
self to a man who has only a few Districts for 
his Kingdom. Conquer all Norway—then 
will I consent to be Queen of it! ” 

Her words inflamed Harold with a mighty 
rage of ambition. In the quaint manner of 
those days, he cried: 

“ I solemnly vow that I will not cut or comb 

113 




114 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

my hair until that day when I shall have made 
myself King of all Norway. If I fail in this, 
I shall be dead of trying! ” 

He kept his vow! 

Kept it, as year after year he fought and 
conquered the surrounding chiefs. Kept it 
until his uncut, uncombed hair grew into such 
a tangled mass that he was called: “ Harold 
the Frowsy-Head.” 

Gradually Harold became ruler of more and 
more Districts. 

The last triumphant battle was a sea-fight. 
This Harold won by the help of his Bersekers 
—terrible fighters were these men! They 
stripped off their armor and even their clothes, 
replacing them with a fury of onslaught which 
was half-crazed. 

Now-—Harold’s vow was accomplished. All 
Norway was under his rule. The tangled 
strands of his hair were cut and combed, until 
men marveled at its softness and color. From 
that day he was called: “Harold the Fair- 
Haired.” 

A splendid marriage followed—and Har¬ 
old’s wife, Gy da, was Queen of Norway. 



“ THROUGH THIS SIGN THOU 
SHALT CONQUER ” 

VISION APPEARING TO CONSTANTINE I, 
SURNAMED “ THE GREAT,” ROMAN 
EMPEROR, 288-337 

Constantine, Roman Emperor, is hard be¬ 
set by his enemies. They are offering him bat¬ 
tle in vastly superior numbers, and are on the 
point of attack. 

To whom can Constantine turn? 

His friends—his soldiers—his vast wealth 
and resources—all are threatened with demoli¬ 
tion. 

There is no help in man for Constantine, 
surnamed the Great. To whom then shall he 
apply for aid in this his dire emergency? 

To the gods of the Romans? 

He has sacrificed to them in all piety, but 
they have failed him. 

His mother, Helena, has told him of a new 
Asiatic Deity to whom she has given her faith 
and allegiance. Will this White Christ help 
now? 

Constantine lifts his eyes to the noonday 

heavens, which are as brass above him. He 

kneels down and prays that the Crucified God 

115 





116 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

of the Christians will reveal Himself and grant 
him the victory. 

Lo, a Miracle! 

A dazzling glory shines out from the heart 
of daylight, far surpassing it in brightness. 

Constantine and his soldiers behold the won¬ 
drous sight in awe. 

That beamy light forms itself into a fair 
Thing, of two bars crossed. 

O radiant and lovely Attitude! O blessed 
Symbol! 

It is the Cross. 

Beneath it in fiery letters are the words, In 
hoc signo vinces: “ Through this sign thou shalt 
conquer.” 

From that moment Constantine embraced 
Christianitv. 

From one victory to another, through the 
coming years, he led his troops. Always at 
their head was borne the sacred banner called 
Labarum, from the Basque word, labarva, 
signifying Standard. It was a spear, crossed 
at the top by a bar from which hung a purple 
cloth richly jeweled. This was surmounted by 
a golden wreath encircling the sacred mono¬ 
gram formed of the first two letters of the 
Name of Christ. 


“SHE HAS BEEN TRANSFERRED 
TO THE VIRGIN CHOIR 
IN HEAVEN ” 

LETTER OF KING EDWARD III ABOUT HIS 
DAUGHTER, PRINCESS JOANNA, 

1333-1348 

It is the fourteenth century. 

The pestilence is raging over Europe and 
England with its terrible virulence. It is em¬ 
phatically called, from its effects on the human 
body, the Black Death. 

Unbelievable are the accounts of its ravages, 
which come from all sides. It is estimated that 
twenty-five millions of persons have died of it. 

Here on the border of Spain flourishes the 
beautiful city of Bayonne. We, its inhabitants, 
throng its streets in pleased excitement, to 
watch the triumphant entry of a Princess. 

In Bayonne’s cathedral, preparations are be¬ 
ing made for a brilliant spectacle and festival. 
A royal marriage is to take place to-morrow. 

The fair Princess Joanna, daughter of King 
Edward III of England, is to wed with the 
Infant Don Pedro, eldest son and heir of the 
King of Castille. 


117 


118 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Although only in her sixteenth year, the 
beauty and graces of Princess Joanna are such 
that she is the theme of many a minstrel’s song. 

To-morrow becomes to-day. 

There is feasting and revelry for all classes. 
The more fortunate gain entrance to the Cathe¬ 
dral to see the wedding. We succeed in push¬ 
ing in. 

But what is this horror that meets our 
affrighted gaze? 

It is not a bride coming slowly up the aisle. 
Not a blushing maiden borne forward to her 
bridegroom. 

Don Pedro stands pale and shaking by the 
altar to receive the corpse of Joanna. 

The Princess was stricken down by the Black 
Death in the night. 

At the very place and hour appointed for 
her wedding—her funeral takes place. 

King Edward, heart-broken, writes to the 
Queen of Castille, “ Your daughter and ours 
has been transferred to the virgin choir in 
Heaven.” 

Our only comfort is that Joanna was spared 
the torment of being the wife of a man, who 
afterwards was celebrated as “ Pedro the 
Cruel ”—the most furious man in Europe. 



“ I WILL TRY TO BE GOOD ” 
QUEEN VICTORIA OF ENGLAND, 1819-1901 

On hearing of her accession to the throne 

Five o’clock on a lovely June morning at 
Kensington, England. The balmy breath of 
roses fills the air and larks are singing in the 
gardens. 

A landau has just driven furiously to the 
palace, and its four reeking horses are pulled 
on their haunches. The Archbishop of Canter¬ 
bury and the Marquis of Conyngham hastily 
descend from the carriage while their attend¬ 
ants pound on the great doors. 

It is some minutes before the two stately 
gentlemen succeed in gaining admittance from 
sleepy servants, and then it is only to be told 
that “ The Princess Victoria is in a sweet sleep 
and cannot be disturbed.” 

State business will not wait! She must be 
waked up, that is all! 

A few moments later—and a young girl 
comes quietly into the room, where the two 
gentlemen await her. Her long fair hair is 
flowing loose over her shoulders, and a dress¬ 
ing gown is wrapped about her short, dignified 
little figure. 


119 


120 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


It is Alexandrina Victoria, niece of King 
William IV. 

She hesitates a moment by the open window 
where the level sun-rays of early morning trace 
a far, bright pathway before her. 

Down on his knees goes Lord Conyngham. 
Breathlessly he delivers the official announce¬ 
ment of the death of King William IV within 
these very last hours. 

Princess Victoria—Princess now no longer 
—regards her lords with steady eyes. Her 
girlish voice says simply: 

“ I will try to be good.” 

Deeply touched, Lord Conyngham bends to 
kiss the hand of his Queen. 

Nobly was that pledge of her youth re¬ 
deemed. 

Many were the years of her reign as Queen 
of Great Britain and Ireland, and Empress of 
India—many, until almost unique event, she 
celebrated the Diamond Jubilee of her Acces¬ 
sion. Queen Victoria’s name became insep¬ 
arably associated with all that stood for the 
highest in public and private life. 

She never forgot nor belied her girlish in¬ 
tention to “ be good.” 



The Princess Victoria. 

Published on the Day of Her Majesty’s Accession, June 20, 1837. 





“ OUR RIGHT IS IN OUR SWORDS ” 
BRENNUS, KING OF THE GAULS 
Said to Roman Ambassadors, 390 b. c. 

Spears clash upon shields of rawhide. 
Trumpets made from horns of wild beasts 
blare angrily through the camp as the Gauls 
crowd about their King, Brennus. 

Opposite to them stand three young ambas¬ 
sadors from Rome. They are brothers—called 
the Fabii. Their graceful togas hang in folds, 
and with an elegance which is somehow in¬ 
furiating to the unkempt chieftains. The 
Gauls toss back their long, shaggy locks of hair 
and try to understand what the calm, haughty 
Romans are saying. 

King Brennus and his wild followers, Gauls 
or Celts, have swept down out of their foggy, 
unknown, northern lands, upon the small 
Etruscan State of Clusium. The inhabitants 
of Clusium, in great alarm at this invasion of 
savages, had sent to Rome for help. 

King Brennus endeavors to explain to the 
Fabii that he and his men mean no harm to 

the people of Clusium. They only want to 

121 



122 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


share their fertile lands, because their own 
country is growing too small for them. Such a 
simple solution. 

The Fabii demand, superciliously, how dare 
the Gauls thus invade an ally of Rome —of 
Rome! What right have they to claim the 
land of strangers, barbarians that they are? 

“ Our right is in our swords,’’ shouts the 
fierce King of the Gauls. 

His answer naturally does not promote 
peace. A battle is the inevitable consequence. 

In this battle, the Fabii fight in the ranks of 
Clusium, and one of them kills a Chieftain of 
the Gauls. 

King Brennus may be considered by the 
Romans as a barbarian, but he knows per¬ 
fectly well that it is against the laws and cus¬ 
toms of all nations for ambassadors to fight. 
This insult shall be avenged! The proud 
Romans shall be taught that the Gauls will not 
brook affront. 

On to Rome! Down upon it sweep the 
marauding hordes of Gauls. Bitter, bitter is 
the price the Romans must pay before King 
Brennus and his soldiers retreat at last to their 
own land. 



“ THEIR SKINS WENT TO BIND 
THE SECOND EDITION OF 
HIS BOOK” 

THOMAS CARLYLE, 1795-1881 
Said concerning the French Revolution 

A dinner party in a prosperous English 
home. 

Massive silver dishes are heaped with good 
things and the wine circulates freely. 

The conversation turns casually on the 
ubiquitous subject of Liberalism versus Con¬ 
servatism. The ladies’ soft laughter is a pleas¬ 
ant undercurrent and the candle-light gleams 
on their jeweled fans. 

A ruddy old gentleman comfortably asserts, 
over his roast beef and mustard, that the British 
people can afford to laugh at theories—such 
theories as are propounded by Visionaries and 
Liberals. 

He is answered unexpectedly. 

A man with snow sprinkled on his bushy 
hair, with fire in his amber eyes, speaks sternly. 
It is Thomas Carlyle—writer—thinker—pro¬ 
gressive. He leans forward, clenching his 
great hand, and the random discussion sud¬ 
denly takes on a grim aspect. Laughter is 

123 



124 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


hushed. Shadows loom in the corners of the 
room which the graceful candle-light cannot 
penetrate. 

Carlyle hammers out his cast-iron words. 

He vociferates that there was a time when 
the French Nobility thought they could afford 
to laugh at theories. Then came a man—Jean 
Jacques Rousseau—who wrote a book called 
“ Social Contract.” This book was a theory, 
and nothing but a theory, and the French 
aristocrats laughed at it, gayly. “ But,” con¬ 
tinues Carlyle, “ their skins went to bind the 
second edition of his book.” 

What a horrid thing to say! 

The ladies draw themselves up. 

Who is this dreadful old man? Mr. Car¬ 
lyle—Oh! My dear, he is always odd, and 
says whatever comes into his head. Shall we 
have coffee on the terrace? Of course such a 
thing couldn’t be true! Human skins for book¬ 
binding indeed! 

The ladies gather up their skirts and flutter 
away. 

Alas, pretty ladies, it might well have been 
true. For during the French Revolution there 
was a tannery of human skins at Mendon. 

So much for disregarding theories of life! 


“THE FIRST WORDS HE UTTERS 
TO YOU SHALL BE WELSH! ” 

EDWARD I, KING OF ENGLAND, 1239-1307 
Said to Welsh Chieftains 

Wales is finally conquered. 

Its bold mountain race has struggled against 
the English to the uttermost, only to be over¬ 
come, after generations of conflict, by the arms 
of King Edward I. 

Despairingly the Welsh chiefs and magnates 
gather at the Castle of Carnarvon to tender 
their final submission. They are to vow fealty 
to that Lord Paramount whom King Edward 
sees fit to present to them. 

But for one thing they petition with un¬ 
broken pride. May they not have a Prince 
who is a native of their own country and who 
does not speak Saxon or French? For the 
King will please consider that the Welsh peo¬ 
ple cannot understand a word of those lan¬ 
guages. 

Yes. King Edward, gay and magnificent, 

assures them that their wishes in this respect 

shall be granted. Renowned for his personal 

125 


126 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

beauty and magnetic bearing, he smiles joy¬ 
fully upon his unwilling subjects. 

Then he waves his hand, and to the amaze¬ 
ment of the Welsh, in sweeps a triumphant 
procession of nurses and attendants, bearing 
a baby boy. It is the King’s son, born to his 
wife but a few days before. 

The devotion of Queen Eleanora has caused 
her to follow her lord in his Welsh campaigns, 
even to this mountain stronghold. Here, in a 
little dark chamber, built in the thickness of 
the walls, and without a fireplace, was born to 
her this boy, afterwards King Edward II of 
England. 

What! This baby to be the Prince of 
Wales? 

Surely. King Edward declares, half in jest, 
half in earnest, that he has redeemed his 
pledge. 

For here is a Prince, born a native of their 
country. He cannot speak a word of Saxon 
or of French! Moreover he shall have a Welsh 
nurse, and “ the first words he utters to you 
shall be Welsh! ” 

Perforce the chieftains submit, and kiss the 
tiny hand which is to sway their scepter. 


“ WE ARE TOO MUCH GENTLEMEN 
TO TAKE A THING A GENTLE¬ 
MAN VALUES SO” 

DICK TURPIN, 1706-1739 
Said on returning a mourning ring 

Stand and deliver! 

Did the words really hiss out on the mid¬ 
night breeze? 

A timorous outside passenger swears he 
heard them. 

Travelers by stage-coach on this Great North 
Road out of London do well to make their 
wills and say their prayers. A nice parallel 
border of grass edges it, miles on miles, where 

horsemen can canter unheard- What was 

that? 

The coachman shakes his head, and whips up 
his horses to a yet faster pace. On swings the 
coach. 

Its coming is coolly expected, round the 
very next corner. For there, in the velvet 
depths of a shadow, lurks a slim, young figure, 
wearing a black mask! Dick Turpin, most gal¬ 
lant and romantic of highwaymen. He backs 

a beautiful black mare. 

127 



128 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


“ Whoa, Bess, my beauty. Not a whinny 
or stamp, to betray us.” 

The stage-coach is coming—it is here! 

Dick Turpin’s steady hand presents his 
bright pistol. Comes his voice, with a lilt of 
laughter ringing through it: 

“ Gentlemen, your purses, your rings and 
your watch-fobs. Ah! Thank you! ” 

Then, with a courtly gesture, the gay young 
rascal motions to the stage-coach window. 

“ Dear ladies! Pray don’t let me incommode 
you—just toss me out your jewels. 

“ Now then, Coachman, you are quite at lib¬ 
erty to drive on. 

“ What does the gentleman say? I have been 
so unfortunate as to take a mourning ring 
which he treasured as a fond memento of a de¬ 
parted friend? Perish the thought!” 

With a sweeping bow, Dick Turpin restores 
the mourning ring to its trembling owner. He 
speaks for his confraternity of the Gentry of 
the Road as he grandiloquently declares: 
“We are too much gentlemen to take a thing 
a gentleman values so.” 

Then—Black Bess and her rider have gone! 
Gone, silently as a fleeting shadow—swiftly as 
a wind-blown cloud. 


“ MAY THIS HAND NEVER 
PERISH ” 

AID AN, BISHOP OF LINDISFARNE 
Said to King Oswald of Northumbria, about 642 

The Bishop of Lindisfarne is entertaining 
Oswald, King of Northumbria. 

The best of provisions are spread upon the 
board. Trout from cool streams and moor 
fowl from the uplands; also shell-fish gathered 
from the many flat tidal rocks that surround 
the beautiful Island of Lindisfarne. 

Serious matters are being discussed. For 
King and Bishop have it at heart to convert 
the whole land to the blessed faith of Chris¬ 
tianity. 

Hospitality proceeds. Before the King is 
set the best of each portion, on a great silver 
dish. 

The King, however, is not thinking over¬ 
much of his own appetite and its indulgence. 
He plans with Aidan the salvation of his sub¬ 
jects’ souls. 

Meanwhile three beggars are peering in the 
gate. They do not expect many pleasant hap¬ 
penings. But perhaps after the great folks 

129 


130 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

have feasted on the good things that smell so 
entrancingly, the kindly Monks may save some 
broken scraps for them. So the beggars wait 
and sniff hopefully. 

King Oswald sees them and smiles. He lifts 
the silver dish that contains his dinner, and 
with his own right hand carries it out to the 
beggars. 

Y r es—they may really eat these wondrous 
viands. Afterwards the sale of the silver bowl 
will keep them long in comfort. 

Aidan, in a transport of generous admira¬ 
tion, seizes Oswald’s right hand and cries: 

“ May this hand never perish.” 

In the course of time the good King Oswald 
died, fighting his pagan neighbors of Mercia. 
Aidan the Bishop died, too, and both men were 
canonized. Saint Oswald’s right hand was en¬ 
shrined in the Cathedral of Bamborough, un- 
corrupt, and it has never corrupted nor per¬ 
ished. 

Such is the sweet old story. 

Is not the last part true? For Saint Os¬ 
wald’s hand has not perished in inspiring in¬ 
fluence, and the words of his friend, Saint 
Aidan, still resound in echoes of encourage¬ 
ment. 


“ SHERIDAN TWENTY MILES 

AWAY ” 

SAID OF PHILIP HENRY SHERIDAN, AMERI¬ 
CAN GENERAL, 1831-1888 

Is that a sound? Or only a shuddering of 
the air? 

There—again! 

It is surely a sound; the rumble and grumble 
of heavy guns. It means that the battle has 
begun again, the battle between the Union and 
Confederate troops. 

And gallant Phil Sheridan is at Winchester. 
What?—Sheridan twenty miles away, and 
fighting going on down there at Cedar Creek? 

The young General calls for his fleet black 
horse, Rienzi. A beautiful creature that flings 
up its head as if sniffing the smoke of the fray 
and knowing how much depended upon its 
strength and swiftness that day. 

Sheridan springs to the saddle, and they are 
gone, thundering down the broad highway to¬ 
wards Cedar Creek. 

Miles trail behind them, and now Sheridan 

is only fifteen miles away from those strug- 

131 




132 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

gling Union troops who are recoiling before 
their enemies. 

Still on they gallop, “ the heart of the steed 
and the heart of the master ” beating together, 
till Sheridan is but ten miles away. 

How goes it with our troops—retreating? 
Broken? 

There is no pause or falter in that stretching 
speed. How can horse and man keep up the 
pace? 

Now—now—what is this? Sheridan is five 
miles away, and stragglers are staggering to¬ 
wards him —towards him—and away from the 
enemy. 

Such a thing shall not be—for Sheridan is 
here . 

Rienzi has brought him to turn a defeat into 
a victory. 

That night, Phil Sheridan writes in a letter 
to General Grant, “ My army having been 
driven back about four miles—I took the af¬ 
fair in hand and quickly marched the corps 
forward.” Modest, soldier-like words! 

It is nice to know that Rienzi was given de¬ 
voted care through a long and happy life, and 
that when he died, his skin was mounted and 
placed in a Military Museum. 



“ TSAR OF ALL RUSSIA ” 

IVAN IV, 1530-1584 

Said to the head of the Russian Church 

Surging hot passions of rage and ambition; 
unbridled excitement; uncontrolled vehemence 
in seething Russian hearts. 

The whole country torn into States and fac¬ 
tions in bitter warfare, one against the other, 
and all in trouble with their outside neighbors. 

At the head of affairs only a boy of fourteen, 
Ivan IV, Grand Duke of Muscovy. 

Although Muscovy was the most important 
of the Russian States, her ruler had never yet 
been recognized as sovereign of them all. 

Now, however, Ivan decides that he will be 
the first to be crowned Tsar—Caesar—of his 
entire native land. A bold conception for a 
lad! 

Tall and well-made, Ivan had strength which 
responded to the enormous demands of his 
indefatigable energy. His eyes had a restless 
gleam, strange and almost neurotic, and an 
enigmatical smile played perpetually around 
his lips. 


133 


134 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

It was not to be expected that this assertion 
of Ivan’s authority would be calmly accepted 
by his boyars or nobles, and the fierce Princes 
of neighboring States. Furiously they set 
themselves to oppose it. 

Ivan met their opposition with a deed of 
horror. It was the first of those acts of his 
which were to gain him the soubriquet of “ The 
Terrible.” 

He convoked his boyars. In his palace, the 
youth sternly confronted the conclave of rebel¬ 
lious men. Their leader for the time being was 
a certain Prince Shuiski. Him, Ivan suddenly 
ordered his huntsmen to seize. Then, before 
any one could interfere, Prince Shuiski was 
thrown tc a pack of hounds. In a few moments 
he was literally torn to pieces. 

It is not surprising that after this the boyars 
were somewhat more conciliatory to their 
young tyrant. 

Then Ivan imperiously commanded the Met¬ 
ropolitan, who was the highest authority in the 
Russian Church, to crown him 

“ Tsar of all Russia.” 

This was accordingly done at Moscow, and 
the reign of the first Tsar of Russia began. 


“ WHAT DAMSEL IS THAT WITH 

THEM? ” 

ISAAC COMNENUS, DESPOT OF CYPRUS 
Said of Berengaria of Navarre, 1191 

A stately galley bears up to Cyprus. 

On its deck is a Princess, as lovely as one in 
a fairy tale. Very tiny; very exquisite; with 
a complexion of fragile fairness, and whose 
length of golden tresses is covered by a trans¬ 
parent veil. 

Isaac Comnenus, Lord of Cyprus, watches 
the stranger’s ship. 

“ What damsel is that with them? ” he de¬ 
mands. 

He is told that it is Berengaria, daughter of 
Sancho, King of Navarre, that she has come 
to Cyprus to meet and marry King Richard I 
of England, who is making the Third Crusade. 

Isaac is furiously angry at the liberties be¬ 
ing taken with his harbor and his island. He 
manifests such hostility that the knights 
guarding Berengaria put out to sea again. 

Then everything happens at once like a real 
fairy tale. 

A terrible storm arises, and Berengaria’s 

ship is tossed upon the dark waters. Several 

135 


136 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

English galleys are wrecked, whereupon Isaac 
and his evil myrmidons plunder them. 

In the midst of it all arrives Richard of Eng¬ 
land—he of the Lion Heart. 

His method of dealing with Isaac’s various 
misdeeds is quite simple. Battle-axe in hand, 
Richard leads his knights to the attack, and 
drives Isaac off to the mountains of the interior. 

Then Berengaria’s galley is signaled to re¬ 
turn. 

Quite casually the royal lovers prepare for 
their magnificent nuptials and double corona¬ 
tion! For by the consent of the Cypriots, 
wearied of Isaac Comnenus’ tyranny, and by 
the advice of the Allied Crusaders, several of 
whom have turned up for the wedding, Richard 
of England is crowned King of Cyprus, and 
his bride Queen of England and Cyprus. 

Richard is dressed for his marriage in a satin 
tunic of rose-color and a mantle of silver tissue. 
The saddle of his steed is inlaid with precious 
stones, and its crupper is formed of two little 
lions of gold with their paws raised, as though 
to strike each other. 

Then in the Isle of Cyprus, celebrated as 
the very abode of the goddess of love, “ there 
was joy and love enough.” 


“I ONLY REGRET THAT I HAVE 
BUT ONE LIFE TO LOSE FOR 
MY COUNTRY ” 

CAPTAIN NATHAN HALE, 1755-1776 

Said just before he was hanged 

To be hanged as a spy at sunrise. 

The sentence was in accordance with all 
military law. Nathan Hale, captain of a 
Connecticut regiment, had been captured 
within the British lines at New York, in his 
disguise of Dutch schoolmaster. Concealed in 
the soles of his boots were found sketches of 
British fortifications on which he had written 
descriptions in scholarly Latin. 

Nathan Hale had said, when he volunteered 
for the abhorred but necessary task of spy, “ I 
am fully sensible of the consequences of dis¬ 
covery and capture in such a situation.” 

He looks now from the window of his prison 
at the setting sun. To-morrow, when the sun 
is setting here, he will be where suns are not, 
in a far more serene clime. 

The young patriot’s fortitude does not falter 
and yet—he is only twenty-one. Young to 
leave a life which was unusually happy and 
successful. 


137 


138 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Nathan Hale was extraordinarily gifted. 
His clear, resolute mind had received the bene¬ 
fits of education and culture. He was very 
handsome and magnificently formed, with a 
bearing of distinguished breeding and joyous 
vitality. It is this boundless virility and energy 
of his combined with the selflessness of his lofty 
spirit which have brought him to his present 
pass. 

Now dawn is breaking. 

Nathan Hale is led out, alone among enemies 
to suffer his humiliating, his glorious, death. 
“To drum-beat and heart-beat a soldier 
marches by.” 

At the place of execution, his grave had been 
already dug, as was customary for one suffer¬ 
ing as a spy. It yawns at his very feet. 

He is bound, with his arms behind him. A 
halter is put about his neck, and its end thrown 
over the bough of a tree. 

Nathan Hale is asked if he has anything to 
sav. 

The lonely, young figure straightens; the 
lustrous blue eyes flash. Then come his golden 
words, to shine down the aisles of the years: 

“ I only regret that I have but one life to 
lose for my country,” 


“ THAT DISTRICT PRODUCES THE 
GREATEST VARIETY WHICH IS 
THE MOST EXAMINED ” 

GILBERT WHITE, 1720-1793 

One of his sayings 

The Rev. Gilbert White, Clergyman of the 
Church of England, and famous naturalist, 
had good reason for saying, “ That district 
produces the greatest variety which is the most 
examined.’ ’ 

For nearly half a century, this true scholar 
lived in, or adjacent to, the parish of Selborne, 
in Hampshire. In the restricted area at his 
command, he made observations and kept de¬ 
lightful scientific records. These researches 
have seldom been equaled for loving interpre¬ 
tation of Nature in her familiar and every-day 
aspects. 

Long years of evenings; of slow walks down 
hedged lanes; of noon'restings under green¬ 
wood trees. 

Not dramatic, all this? 

The wise and kind old man would have been 
amazed at the suggestion. 

Is not everything in Nature dramatic? What 

139 


140 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


drama approaches the rolling of her seasons 
and their consequent reaction upon animal and 
vegetable life? 

There is no haste in the inevitable. 

Gilbert White knew how to wait. To wait 
until next year, or until a whole series of years 
had passed, for the gradual accumulation of 
facts. He watched again and again to verify 
some bit of knowledge—the color beneath a 
bird’s wing; the twisting of a flower petal; the 
manner in which a pigeon drinks. 

He studied with absorbed interest the dif¬ 
ferent ways in which the squirrel, the field- 
mouse and the nuthatch eat their hazel-nuts. 

He tells of the habits of a land-tortoise, who, 
with a peacefulness rivaling that of its biogra¬ 
pher, lived thirty years in a “ small walled 
court.” 

He discusses with thrilling eloquence the 
migrations of birds, which in his time were 
only beginning to be understood. 

Gilbert White was not preoccupied, as 
were later scientists, with cold analysis. He 
does not insist primarily on adaptation of the 
species and competitive struggles. 

All about him he sees the sociality and in¬ 
telligence of nature, her beauty and her love. 



“ THAT WE MAY DIE TOGETHER ” 


CLEOPATRA, QUEEN OE EGYPT, 

69-30 b. c. 

Message sent to Mark Antony 

What boots it how they have reached the 
center of the labyrinth? 

They have loved. Loved with a love which 
ranks them prototypes of lovers. 

What reck they of the paths—treachery, 
sin, cruelty, bitter mistakes, of their own and 
of others? They know and acknowledge them 
all. 

The end is a mausoleum. 

A stately tomb, near the slow, flat, swinging 
River Nile. By day, the waters of the Nile 
hiss against the hot sands, as if they touched 
molten gold. By night, their far purple 
reaches are shadows of boatmen’s songs, when 
the low stars hang linked in a net of jewels that 
droop heavily. 

Cleopatra, beautiful and brilliant, is still the 
imperious Queen. She will brook no defeat, 
no lesser things of fate. She sends her message 
to Mark Antony: “ Come to me here, that we 
may die together.” 


141 


142 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Antony at her call hastens to her. 

He himself had been one of the tri-rulers of 
the Homan world. He had been hailed by his 
followers as having the attributes of the god 
Dionysus; his beauty; his joy; his generosity. 

But now the relentless ambitions of the royal 
lovers and their imperial powers must come to 
dust. 

A tomb of porphyry and bronze, with black 
and scarlet paintings on its walls. In through 
shafts that open to the Nile comes a green, 
arrowy light. It strikes between curtains that 
are stretched up into heights of dusky cool¬ 
ness. Flowers die in their heaped sweetness on 
flights of stone steps. 

Ever the Nile flows to the sea, with the peace 
of inevitableness. Throw wine upon its waves 
for an oblation, as was done of old, and the 
wide blue blossoms of the Lotus. For the 
ghostly barge of Antony and Cleopatra drifts 
ever on its heart under the stars. 

Ever through the pages of history floats the 
story of their deathless love, their tragic death. 


“ IT SEEMS A PITY, BUT I DO NOT 
THINK I CAN WRITE MORE ” 

CAPTAIN ROBERT FALCON SCOTT, 

1868-1912 

In last entry of his diary 

In a tent amidst the desolation of a snow¬ 
bound land, three men are waiting for an end 
which cannot be far. During the last nine 
days they have had practically no food or fuel. 
Outside rages a death-dealing blizzard. 

Captain Robert Scott with four companions 
reached the South Pole on January 16th, 1912. 
They were the first Englishmen to do so. They 
found records, proving that the Norwegian 
Expedition had been there one month earlier. 
A heart-breaking disappointment. 

On their return trip, two of the party died. 
Captain Scott, with Dr. Wilson, Chief of 
Scientific Staff, and young Lieutenant Bowers 
struggled on. They fought hunger and ex¬ 
haustion, and the crippling from gnawing 
frost-bites. Constantly they helped and en¬ 
couraged each other, like the gallant English 
gentlemen they were. 

Now, these three have come to the ultimate 

limit of human endurance. They make their 

143 


144 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

last camp. It adds to their despair to realize 
that it is only eleven miles from a depot where 
food and oil-fuel await them. 

In this awful wilderness of snow and cold, 
a man is writing—writing. Records, diary, 
letters come from the pen of Robert Scott, with 
what effort and renunciation! 

Beside him his two dearest comrades lie in 
their sleeping-bags. They are growing quiet, 
and more quiet. Robert Scott’s glazing eyes 
watch their huddled forms. Did they move? 
Is that a whisper in a well-known voice? No 
—only silence and cold and loneliness, ever- 
increasing loneliness. 

Still he writes. Writes till the pen drops 
from his stiffening fingers. 

“ It seems a pity, but I do not think I can 
write more.” 

Brave words these, to be among his last. 

The Relief Expedition, eight months later, 
found the three bodies. They found also im¬ 
portant surveys; extensive meteorological and 
magnetic observations. 

Most pathetic of all—those thirty-five 
pounds of geological specimens, containing in¬ 
valuable fossils. What it must have cost those 
dying men to drag them! 


“ YOU HAVE LOST THE WAGER, 

SIRE!” 

COMTESSE DU BARRY, 1746-1793 
Said to King Louis XV of France 

“ Is your chocolate honeyed to your liking, 
Sire? ” 

“ Yes, charming Jeanne, and here is your 
coffee, which I have made for you with my own 
royal hands.” 

Thus these lovers play at housekeeping in 
this magnificent mansion of Lucienne. King 
Louis has built it, that he and his Maitresse- 
en-Titre Jeanne, Comtesse Du Barry, may 
have a “ little apartment to hide in.” 

This morning an exciting wager is being laid 
between the two. For to-morrow night, Du 
Barry is to be presented at Court. 

Louis may feel that he has granted enough. 
For he swears that he will let Du Barry fall 
at his feet before the entire Court, without the 
least effort on his part to prevent it. Du 
Barry, with the amiability which always char¬ 
acterized her, wagers him that he will do no 
such cruel thing. 

The evening; the hour; the moment; arrive. 

145 


146 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Du Barry in all the glory of her charms, se¬ 
ductive to intoxication, slowly crosses the Pres¬ 
ence Chamber. Her blue eyes under their long 
black lashes glance about with a childlike 
sweetness and surprise. Her light hair has 
soft, ash-colored shadows, and her cheeks bloom 
with pale rose tints. She is robed as might be 
a beauteous Eastern Houri, and wears a gor¬ 
geous diamond agraffe—whatever that may 
be—a gift from the King. 

She reaches the foot of the throne and be¬ 
gins to stoop humbly, to perform her act of 
homage. 

Lovely thing! How could any man with a 
spark of gallantry in his breast let so exquisite 
a creature prostrate herself before him! 

Louis cannot! He takes her hand, and 
raises her. 

Du Barry laughs up at him. 

“You have lost the wager, Sire! ” she whis¬ 
pers. 

We do not know what the wager was. 

But Du Barry’s triumph was complete. For 
her there were no more cold shoulders from 
high-born Court ladies, whose own reputations 
were of course—oh, of course—perfectly im¬ 
maculate! 





“ CLEAR THAT LINE! ” 
CAPTAIN OF WHALING VESSEL 
Early part of Nineteenth Century 

“ Yonder she blows! ” 

How this shout from the lookout thrills us, 
the crew of a New England whaler in the 
South Pacific, in the early part of the nine¬ 
teenth century. 

“ Where away? ” roar the officers. 

“ Four points on the lee bow, sir.” 

Four oarsmen throw themselves into the 
Captain’s own boat. Bow-oar is only a young¬ 
ster, on his first voyage. 

They forge through the tumbling seas. 
There is a puff—a spout—and we see the broad 
half-moon of the whale’s fins. Five thousand 
dollars’ worth of oil, or thereabouts, lie under 
that gleaming skin. 

The harpooner strikes his barbed point deep 
into the huge sea-creature. The whale is fight¬ 
ing wildly now, but far from conquered. 

Bow-oar, plucky lad, hangs on to the har¬ 
poon line. This line steers the boat to one side 
of the whale, and keeps it running parallel. 
Again and again it is torn from Bow-oar’s 

fingers, taking bits of flesh with it. 

147 




148 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


The Captain is in a towering rage because 
he cannot get near enough to the whale to 
despatch it. He rasps out sarcasms on the 
cowardice of his Bow-oar. 

This is too much for Bow-oar’s hot young 
blood. With a soul-and-body rending effort, 
he brings the boat right up to the iron, and 
then—calmly passes the rope round the thwart 
and makes it fast. 

The delighted Captain plies his lance and the 
whale goes promptly into the death paroxysm. 

“Stern all!” shouts the Captain. “Clear 
that line! ” 

To his astonishment and horror, he suddenly 
realizes that the line is made fast. 

Why, during the tempestuous moment that 
follows, the boat and its crew escape is a 
miracle. 

Safe back on the ship, the Captain asks Bow- 
oar why he made fast that line. For, he adds, 
if that maddened whale had gone down, boat 
and crew would have gone with it, and been 
“ quarter of a mile under water.” 

Bow-oar respectfully suggests that it is 
“ better to die under water than live under a 
charge of cowardice! ” 


“ I AM COMING TO FIGHT YOU ” 
SVIATOSLAF, RUSSIAN PRINCE, 943-973 

Challenge which he sent to neighboring states 

/ 


Sviatoslaf, or Holy Fame, was very young 
when he began to reign as Prince of Kief, the 
Mother of Russian Cities. 

He at once sent out a general challenge to 
the neighboring States: 

“ I am coming to fight you.” 

During the next ten years or so, he cer¬ 
tainly redeemed his boast. He fought any one 
and every one, upon all manner of pretext or 
upon no pretext at all. He joyed only in the 
riot of war. 

He and his fair-haired valorous soldiers at¬ 
tacked victoriously one city after another. 
They marched rapidly, without baggage or 
train. 

Prince Holy Fame fared as did his soldiers. 
He slept in the open air, on the bare ground, 
with his saddle for pillow. His chief mark of 
distinguishing dress was a marvelous jewel 
which he wore in one ear—a hoop of gold, orna^ 

mented with a ruby and two huge pearls. 

149 


150 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Gradually, however, the power of the Rus¬ 
sian army waned. For various causes and in 
strenuous circumstances they lost one im¬ 
portant battle after another. 

At last Prince Holy Fame realizes that his 
army is conquered. With the small remnant 
of men left him, Holy Fame tries to pass the 
cataracts of the River Dnieper on his way 
home. 

Here he is met by his most ferocious enemies, 
the Petchenegs. They are a barbarous Tribe, 
corrupt and bloody; also they are reported to 
be Cannibals. Not pleasant foes. 

With great carnage, the Petchenegs fall 
upon the Russians and utterly rout them. 
They kill Holy Fame, and present his body to 
their Prince. 

Whether their Prince actually ate poor Holy 
Fame or not, certain it is that he had his skull 
fashioned into a drinking cup! With quite 
pretty decorations of gold on it and a smug, 
moral precept: “ He who covets the wealth of 
another often loses his own.” 

Such a dainty goblet for a dining-table! 


“ THE WITCH HAS LEFT ME AN 
IMP INSTEAD ” 

ANNA DALTON 

Last part of Seventeenth Century 

What horror is this? 

A fair young mother turning from her babe 
with frenzied fear and loathing. 

Anna Dalton thrusts her rosy baby from her 
knee. She will not listen to husband or mother 
or friends as they try to calm her. With ago¬ 
nized shrieks, she vows that a witch has been in 
the house. 

A witch! 

No word could have had a more direful 
sound in a New England household. For this 
is the very last of the seventeenth century, a 
time when the whole countryside is hag-ridden 
with terror of witchcraft. When none knows 
who will be the next victim. When the eyes 
of each man furtively seek those of his neigh¬ 
bor, and then fall away, fearing to read—he 
knows not what! 

A witch! 

Gently, despairingly, Goodman Dalton 

strives to reason with his half-demented wife. 

151 



152 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

She cries aloud that the witch has stolen 
her own child away. Then she adds, in tones 
which freeze the blood of the listeners, “ The 
witch has left me an imp instead.” 

A horrible, bewitched creature who is drain¬ 
ing the life blood from her breasts. She im¬ 
plores her husband to rake open the red hot 
coals of the hearth fire and lay the hideous 
changeling upon them. Then the witch in the 
shape of a bat may snatch it up the chimney, 
and bring back her own sweet babe. 

The simple piety which built New England 
is theirs. 

There can be but one Help in such a deathly 
strait. Only God in His Mercy can save them. 

From the prison of Anna Dalton’s fear, 
there is but one path of escape: the shining way 
of prayer. 

Quiet words sound in the fire-lit room. And 
lo! the cloud is lifted. The after-glow of the 
sunset strikes in the window, and in its radi¬ 
ance, Anna Dalton knows her little child. 

Light and love—and to God be the praise! 


“ WHY DON’T YOU SPEAK FOR 
YOURSELF, JOHN?” 

REPLY OF PRISCILLA TO JOHN ALDEN 

1622 

The spinning-wheel hums like the obligato 
of a violoncello for two voices. 

One is that of a man, whose stiff Puritan 
garb does not hide his grace and vigor. 

His blue eyes blaze with ardor upon his com¬ 
panion, a lovely girl. Yet—strange—he does 
not urge his own cause, but that of his friend. 

The room has the sturdy, simple furniture of 
pioneer days. Chairs—with four-slat backs, 
and gracious, inviting slopes to their arms. 
Without the panes of oiled paper lies the ten¬ 
der landscape of a New England Spring. 

John Alden, the youngest man to come over 
in the Mayflower, pleads with Priscilla, “ the 
Puritan Maiden.” 

The girl listens to the stripling’s words in 
amazement and disappointment. Then she 
rallies her powers of coquetry and says archly: 

“ Why don’t you speak for yourself, John? ” 

Poor lad! How he longs to do so! 

But his honor is pledged to champion the 

153 




154 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

suit of Miles Standish, the middle-aged “ Cap¬ 
tain of Plymouth.” 

John Alden dares not fathom Priscilla’s 
words. 

He rushes from the house, to pace by the 
sands where rests Plymouth Rock, that 4 4 cor¬ 
ner-stone of a nation.” 

In his stern Puritan code, there is no such 
word as treachery. Yet—he is in the flame 
of his youth, and he loves! 

Months go by. They are filled for John 
Alden with the anguish of thwarted longing. 
He sees Priscilla daily, but does not falter in 
his high resolve. 

Then of a sudden comes the news that Miles 
Standish has been killed—fighting the Indians. 

John Alden, freed from his obligation, woos 
and wins Priscilla. 

On their wedding-day Miles Standish ap¬ 
pears—the report of his death having been 
false. 

The stout Captain gazes with grim amuse¬ 
ment at the abashed wedding couple, and says 
forgivingly: 

44 If you want a thing done, you must do it 
yourself! ” 



Why Don’t You Speak for Yourself, John? 








“ I HAVE SEIZED ENGLAND WITH 
MY TWO HANDS! ” 

WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR, 1027-1087 
Said on landing in England 

The Normans have come! With a thousand 
ships! They are led by one flying a blood-red 
flag, in which sails their Duke, William of 
Normandy. They are landing at Hastings, to 
conquer England! 

This terrible news flies from the coast of 
Sussex to the Court of Harold the Saxon King 
one bright Autumn day in 1066. 

Great is the consternation. What can be 
done? 

The Normans pour from their ships in bril¬ 
liant array. First come the Knights in their 
close-fitting ring armor. Each has a banner 
with his especial device, to serve as a rallying 
point for his retainers who press after him. 
Then come the archers. 

The last person in this goodly multitude is 
Duke William himself. He is renowned for 
the manly beauty of his person and for his 
knightly prowess. 

Bv some unaccountable accident, as Duke 

William leaps to the shore, he stumbles. Down 

155 


156 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

he falls, to measure his majestic height upon 
the beach. 

A great cry of distress arises from the super¬ 
stitious Normans. Here is a direct omen of 
ill. The soldiers all exclaim that their Duke’s 
mishap is prophetic of the downfall of his 
army. 

But Duke William is as clever at diplomacy 
as he is brave in the field. 

In recovering himself, he has filled his hands 
with sand. This he hastily shows to his fol¬ 
lowers. 

“ See! My friends,” he cries in a loud, cheer¬ 
ful voice, “ by the Splendor of God, I have 
seized England with my two hands! ” 

Instantly the apprehensions of the Normans 
are appeased. Reassured, they are aflame 
again with courage and a desire to follow this 
gallant leader. 

Duke William’s prognostication was justi¬ 
fied. At the Battle of Hastings, a few days 
later, the Normans were entirely victorious 
over the Saxons. King Harold was killed by 
an arrow through the left eye. 

William of Normandy was crowned King 
of England on Christmas Day, by the Arch¬ 
bishop of York. 


“HERE IS THE VERY SPOT!” 

SAMUEL JOHNSON, 1709-1784 
Said in deep penitence 

Market day, in the peaceful village of Ut- 
toxeter, late in the eighteenth century. 

A lively scene, with crowds of people bar¬ 
gaining; bustling; arguing. Here comfortable 
County Squires, on their finely bred hackneys. 
There farmers endeavoring to guide droves of 
fractious pigs and cows, each of which wishes 
to go in a separate direction. Red-cheeked 
farmers’ wives sitting beside piles of red¬ 
cheeked apples. Carts full of cabbages; but¬ 
ter and eggs; poultry. 

Presently, a tall, bulky old gentleman comes, 
elbowing every one aside. He is dressed in 
brown, with long stockings and buckled shoes. 
On his head is a bushy wig, which sits very 
much awry. 

He is a queer-acting old gentleman. His 
scarred features twist and distort themselves 
as he flings about his arms in nervous gesticu¬ 
lations and blinks his dim, bleared eyes. Curi¬ 
ous glances are cast at him. 

He pauses near an old ivy-mantled church. 

167 


158 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

The clock in its tower is pointing to noon. 
Here the old gentleman takes his stand. He 
removes his hat and clasps his hands, to wring 
them heart-brokenly. Over and over and over 
he mutters tragically: 

“ Here is the very spot! ” 

What spot? What does he mean? 

People pause in their occupations to watch 
him, half fearfully. 

For a full hour he stands thus, still remorse¬ 
fully murmuring: 

“ Here is the very spot! ” 

What terrible event happened in this place, 
that this sad old gentleman should so bemoan 
it? 

Finally, one of the oldest inhabitants of the 
village remembers. On this spot many years 
ago, old Michael Johnson kept a book-stall. 

So—this old gentleman is Michael John¬ 
son’s son? Y r es—the illustrious and wise Dr. 
Samuel Johnson, the great writer, the famous 
compiler of the Dictionary. 

Fifty years ago, the lad Sam Johnson had 
refused to do his sick father a kindness. 

Now, after half a century, an old man suffers 
the useless regret which never brings back 
spent hours. 



“ ONE OF THE CHIEFS STABBED 
HIM BETWIXT THE SHOUL¬ 
DERS WITH A DAGGER ” 

DESCRIPTION OF THE DEATH OF CAPTAIN 
JAMES COOK, 1728-1779 

Strange ! 

When we landed the other day, these natives 
of the Sandwich Islands could not do enough 
for us. They paid their uncouth honors to our 
Commander, Captain James Cook. They 
wrapped cloths of a brilliant red about his 
shoulders and approached him—actually—on 
all fours to show their humility. 

They gave all of us presents of delicious 
fruits and vegetables, which we sailors greatly 
appreciated. 

Of course there was that unfortunate matter 
of the fence which surrounded their sacred place 
or temple. We wanted it for fuel, and our 
officers let us carry it off. That may have 
angered their Priests. There were some little 
quarrels also over the native women. 

Anyway, when we arrived in the bay again, 
yesterday, having been forced to put back for 

repairs to one of our ships, the natives showed 

159 



160 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

us very plainly that we were no longer wel¬ 
come. 

Now comes news that they have stolen one 
of our small boats. 

Captain Cook is at once putting off in 
launches with nearly forty of our men. We 
who are left on board the ships watch anxiously 
to see them land. 

In spite of Captain Cook’s kindness of heart, 
he will suffer no insult to our English flag. 

What do we see! 

Captain Cook is preparing to bring the 
native King, as a hostage for his objects’ good 
behavior, back to our ships. But the King and 
his followers are objecting. 

Now—now- 

The natives are swarming in hundreds about 
our few Englishmen, and threatening them. 

Even now, Captain Cook tries to restrain the 
fire of his men and protect the misguided na¬ 
tives. Our party strives to force its way back 
to the launches. 

Captain Cook was the last to retire. 

Merciful Heavens! 

“ One of the native chiefs stabbed him be¬ 
twixt the shoulders with a dagger.” 

Thus died one of the greatest of navigators. 



“ THOSE TROUBLESOME 
BURGHERS ” 

COUNT LOUIE II OF FLANDERS, d. 1384 
Said of the people of Ghent 

We suffer the horrors of a siege in the Mid¬ 
dle Ages. Hunger; disease; wounds; death; 
and again, and yet again, gnawing hunger. 

We, the people of Ghent, are beleaguered 
in our City by the soldiers of Count Louie II 
of Flanders. They prevent any provisions 
from reaching us. 

With them are joined our neighbors of 
Bruges. 

When Count Louie called upon his vassals 
of Bruges to aid him against “ those trouble¬ 
some Burghers,” they gladly complied. For 
Ghent and Bruges are bitter commercial rivals, 
and there is a furious feud between them. 

Day by day, our situation grows more tragic. 
Our women and children cry to us, pitifully 
begging for bread which we cannot give them. 

In this dire emergency we turn to our most 
influential citizen, Philip Van Artevelde. Un¬ 
der his energetic leadership, five thousand men 

161 


162 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

are found, still capable of bearing arms. But 
woefully weak and emaciated. 

Van Artevelde commands us to gather to¬ 
gether every scrap of food which remains in 
Ghent. Yes. Every bit of anything which 
can be eaten. A meager supply it forms, only 
enough to fill five little carts. 

We march through the gate of Ghent, drag¬ 
ging our weary bodies—and the five little carts. 
The Priests and non-combatants crawl out to 
beseech blessings upon us. They cry that if 
we lose the battle we need not return, “ because 
they will all be dead of starvation! ” 

We camp for the night, to suffer; to pray; 
to dream of food. 

In the morning, Van Artevelde distributes 
among us the contents of those five little—oh, 
how little!—carts. 

Then, with the strength of desperation we 
fall upon our foes. And extraordinary to re¬ 
late, we utterly rout them! 

“ Those troublesome Burghers ” have saved 
Ghent. 

That night her people feast upon the richest 
viands of Bruges. Never tasted food so good! 




“ IF MY RIGHT HAND BE SPARED, 
I MAY LIVE TO DO THE KING 
GOOD SERVICE ” 

SIR EDMUND KNEVET 

Said to the Chief Justice of England, 1541 

Grim preparations are being made for the 
maiming of a man! 

There has been a quarrel over a game of 
tennis between two hot-headed youths. Sir 
Edmund Knevet, in a flash of temper, struck 
his opponent, one Master Cleer of Norfolk. 

Instantly Sir Edmund realized the tragic 
consequences of what he had done. The tennis 
court lay within the precincts of the palace of 
King Henry VIII. By an English statute 
then in force, malicious striking in the verge of 
the King’s abode was punishable by the for¬ 
feiture of the offender’s lands and goods to the 
Crown, and by the loss of his right hand. 

Sir Edmund stands now, waiting the carry¬ 
ing out of the last part of his sentence. He 
does not flinch, for a knight must be ready to 
meet any fate calmly. But his young face is 
somewhat haggard, as he watches the advanc¬ 
ing procession. 


163 


164 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

It is headed by the Sergeant-Surgeon, whose 
services may be needed to restore the prisoner 
—not a reassuring thought! Then come vari- 
ous officers. One carries the block; one a long, 
bright knife. Another has searing-irons to 
sear the veins of the mutilated arm, and be¬ 
hind him walks a boy with a brazier of fire to 
heat these irons white-hot. 

Yet another bears a rooster, whose head is 
to be sacrificed in order to test the instruments. 

Still no word of complaint from the plucky 
young prisoner. 

The Chief Justice solemnly reads Sir Ed¬ 
mund’s offense. Sir Edmund confesses to it. 
Then he says quietly that his only plea is that 
the King would be graciously pleased to spare 
his right hand and take his left. Because, he 
adds, “If my right hand be spared, I may live 
to do the King good service.” 

Such a dutiful submission, such loyal desire, 
have their effect. The King’s heart is touched. 

Sir Edmund’s friends, who have hastened to 
throw themselves at Henry’s feet, rush back 
with joyful tidings. The sentence is remitted 
in both clauses. 

Was the rooster included in the clemency— 
or did some one have him for dinner? 


“ THROUGH THE MIST, FIGURES 
WERE SEEN CLINGING TO 
THE WRECK ” 

GRACE DARLING, 1815-1842 
Said of shipwrecked people whom she rescued 

A young girl, slender and delicate. Her 
quiet eyes dream lovingly over the wild and 
beautiful scenes of her island home. It is set 
in a somber, northern ocean, whose surges have 
pounded against black cliffs since tempests be¬ 
gan, and land and water were made twain. 

Grace Darling, daughter of the lighthouse- 
keeper on Longstone, one of the Fame Islands. 

She has climbed the iron-like rocks that are 
cut and cracked in every direction. She has 
sat on their shell-encrusted edges, dashed by a 
cold spray, to watch the hurrying waves tumble 
in from the far curve of the earth. 

One Autumn night, a storm tore across the 
Fame Islands. 

So terrible was it that the Steamer Forfar¬ 
shire came to her end on the rocks about a 
mile from the Longstone Lighthouse. Most 

of her people were drowned. But nine poor 

165 


166 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

creatures clung to what was left of the For - 
farshire all through that awful night. 

In the morning, Grace Darling described the 
wreck. 

“ Through the mist, figures were seen cling¬ 
ing to the wreck.” 

Instantly, the heroic girl persuaded her 
father to launch their dory, and row with her 
to the rescue. 

Fair girlish arms—soft girlish body—to 
what a strain they are being put. Strength 
and courage must have failed her, but love of 
her fellow-beings carried her on. On—over 
the raging abyss of waters that shrieked be¬ 
tween the gorges of the Islands. On—close to 
the sharp-fanged rocks where hung the wreck. 

All nine persons were saved and taken safely 
to the Darling home. 

Grace Darling’s exploit made her famous. 
Humane Societies sent her medals. Dukes and 
Duchesses vied with the general public in hand¬ 
some subscriptions for her and her father. 

She only wondered at this tumult of ap¬ 
plause. What had she done, save her duty? 

Her quiet eyes still dreamed lovingly over 
calm and storm. 




“ WISEST OF MEN, HE KNEW THE 
LANGUAGES OF ALL 
CREATURES” 

SOLOMON, KING OF ISRAEL 
Said of him in the Tenth Century, b. c. 

King Solomon rides forth. 

Rides forth in a glory, the half of which has 
not been told us. 

His splendid procession swings like a pag¬ 
eant across the summer plains. Great war- 
chiefs, mounted on noble horses which traders 
have brought from northern countries. Lords 
of state and mighty councillors. 

The jingle of arms sounds softly through the 
purple air, and silver and turquoise ornaments 
glitter in the burning sunshine. Chariots made 
from the precious cedars of Lebanon breast 
the green reeds with their gold-encrusted 
curves. 

Great the wealth and power of Solomon. 

But greater far the treasure and authority 
of his wisdom. 

Suddenly the cavalcade receives a check. 
King Solomon holds up his hand for a halt, 
then is seen in an attitude of listening. The 

courtiers throw their horses on their haunches, 

167 


168 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

and with prancing and clatter and snorting, the 
long line stops. 

What is the matter? What does the King 
hear? 

The lords nudge each other into attention, 
and turning their heads sideways, try to look 
as if they, too, heard something most interest¬ 
ing and edifying. 

But theirs is not the sagacity and the pre¬ 
science of the Sage. 

Solomon has studied and loved Nature in all 
her aspects until he has attained to a finely 
attuned comprehension of many of her secrets. 
“ Wisest of men, he knew the language of all 
creatures.” 

He hears now, beneath his horse’s feet, the 
murmur of wee voices in a plaint of despair. It 
is the ant-folk. An ant-hill lies in the path of 
King Solomon’s cavalcade, and its inhabitants 
cry to their gods for aid. 

“ Here,” they wail, “ comes the King whom 
men call the Wise, to crush us.” 

“ Nay, little neighbors,” murmurs Solomon, 
“ Wisdom lapses into mere Knowledge, if it 
comprises not Mercy. I will lead my followers 
round-about, and your Citadel of Dust shall 
be spared! ” 


“ GIVE ME LIBERTY OR GIVE ME 

DEATH!” 

PATRICK HENRY, 1736-1799 
Speech in the Virginia Convention 

It is the spring of 1775. 

The second Revolutionary convention of Vir¬ 
ginia is sitting. The hall is crowded with trou¬ 
bled legislators, for momentous discussions 
must be struggled through, and dangerous de¬ 
cisions made. 

The soft March air blows in the open win¬ 
dows, fanning the hot cheeks of the anxious, 
excited men. Outside, the fruit trees are in 
blossom, their rosy petals drift lazily down, and 
the sunshine is balmy with their fragrance. 

Patrick Henry, Southern patriot and ora¬ 
tor, has presented resolutions for arming the 
Virginia Militia. He believes with all his soul 
that war with England is the only course which 
the Colonies ought now to take. Vehemently 
he declares that the American Colonies are 
troubled and shaken throughout their length 
and breadth. That neither religiously, politi¬ 
cally, nor commercially can our people longer 

brook over-seas dictation. 

169 


170 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


But conservative members of the convention 
are striving even yet to stem the current. They 
hope to avoid open warfare by some kind of 
compromise. They vigorously oppose Patrick 
Henry’s measures as premature, and argument 
follows argument. 

Through the tense trouble of the crowded 
room flows the placid song of a mocking-bird 
swaying on a branch of young green. The 
golden bird notes dance in the band of golden 
sun-motes that pour in at the door. 

Now Patrick Henry springs to his feet. A 
born orator, his opportunity enkindles him. 
His words flame and sear as his voice rings 
over the assemblage. 

“ Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be 
purchased at the price of chains and slavery? 
Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what 
course others may take, but as for me, give me 
liberty or give me death.” 

The breaking voice; the beamy eyes; the 
glorious words; they could not be withstood. 

Patrick Henry’s resolutions were passed by 
the convention. Their author was made chair¬ 
man of the committee for which they provided. 


“ IS MY SON UNHORSED OR 
WOUNDED THAT HE CANNOT 
SUPPORT HIMSELF? ” 

KING EDWARD III OF ENGLAND, 1312-1377 

Said of his son, the Black Prince, at the Battle 

of Cre^y 

The press and rage of a hand-to-hand battle. 
The deathly crash and strain of armor as 
men’s bodies strive, one against another. The 
flaunting banners staggering over the throng, 
rearing horses falling on wounded men. 

It is the Battle of Cre9y. The English un¬ 
der King Edward III contend with the French 
under Philip of Valois. 

The first Division of the English is led by 
the King’s eldest son, the Black Prince, an 
adorable lad of only sixteen. His noble char¬ 
acter and gallant bearing have endeared him to 
the hearts of all England. 

The feathered arrows of the English archers 
wing with such quickness and precision that 
the air is full of them. It seems as if it snowed! 
Now the French surge vigorously forward 

and gain some advantage. On they come, to 

171 


172 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

break through the Black Prince’s line, until he 
himself is threatened. 

His immediate followers swarm anxiously 
about him, for his personal safety is their first 
thought. Help must be sought to encompass 
the young Prince with absolute protection. 

A knight gallops to where King Edward sits 
quietly on a little hill overlooking the fray. 
Gaspingly the knight implores the King to 
send support to his son—another battalion at 
least! 

Edward glances calmly at the excited mes¬ 
senger. Then he asks, “ Is my son unhorsed 
or wounded that he cannot support himself? ” 

“ Nothing of the sort, thank God! ” cries the 
knight. 

“ Then do not expect that I shall come,” re¬ 
turned the King. “Let the boy win his spurs! ” 

Oh, those golden spurs of Knighthood! Won 
indeed they were by the heroic boy. 

The King’s message was the last fillip 
needed. The English rallied again. In “ the 
form of a portcullis or harrow,” as the old 
chronicle says, they fought and bled and died 
and conquered. 

The day’s work belonged to the Black 
Prince, and the honor and glory thereof. 


“ BRAVO! BRAVO!” 

CHEERS OF AUDIENCE AT FIRST PER¬ 
FORMANCE OF THE NINTH SYMPHONY, 
BY LUDWIG YON BEETHOVEN, 1770-1827 

A great concert hall in the delightful mu¬ 
sical city of Vienna one spring evening in 
1824. 

There is not a vacant seat in the house. The 
Court boxes are full, and the nobility and 
aristocracy crowd their reserved seats, all in 
gala dress. 

The Master, Beethoven, is to conduct his 
Missa Solemnis, and also his Ninth Symphony. 
It is the first performance of the latter, which is 
sometimes called the Choral Symphony. In 
this marvelous composition Beethoven has ex¬ 
pressed the longings and aspirations of all 
humanity. 

Beethoven, old, ill, worn in body and spirit, 
slowly mounts the platform. He is desperately 
in need of money, but he receives less than two 
hundred dollars as his share of this evening’s 
proceeds—one of the most interesting concerts 
in musical history. His greatest tragedy is 
that he has lately become stone-deaf. It does 



174* HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

not interfere with his conducting. For his 
music is in his brain. Indeed it is part of his 
brain—for he has created it. 

A hush of almost aching expectancy now 
falls upon the vast assemblage. Beethoven has 
lifted his magic baton. 

Sounds float out over the listening throng 
and to each member of it is brought a different 
message. 

Sounds of triumph from acclaiming trum¬ 
pets ; sounds of green leaves from silver flutes; 
sounds of partings and of tears from violins; 
sounds of passion from deep-bosomed ’cellos. 

The concert is over. 

Beethoven lays down his baton. He hopes 
that the people have liked his music. He does 
not feel sure. 

Suddenly one of the singers in the Choral 
part comes up to Beethoven and gently turns 
him to face the audience. 

Its enthusiasm is fairly frantic. A wave of 
overwhelming applause is rocking the house. 
Handkerchiefs flutter. Sobs, cheers, ring out. 

“ Bravo! Bravo! ” cry the people. 

Then Beethoven sees the applause which had 
beat unnoticed against his deaf ears. 


“ HIS MAJESTY WAS MINDED TO 
GIVE THE QUEEN A KISS ” 

SAID OF JAMES VI OF SCOTLAND, 1566-1625 

On his marriage with Anne of Denmark 

His girl bride, wrecked on the bleak coast 
of Norway, on her way from her own country 
to his kingdom of Scotland. 

His lovely girl bride, Anne of Denmark, • 
whom he has never seen. Shall she be left in 
that desolate fishing village, exposed to all the 
rigors and privations of the coming winter? 
Never! Lords and gentlemen will fly to her 
rescue! 

With the gallantry of a true Stuart, James 
VI of Scotland, afterward James I of Great 
Britain, was for starting on the instant. 

But first arrive ship captains and mariners 
in horror over an autumn voyage across the 
North Sea. They have no desire to risk it 
themselves, and try to dissuade the King with 
every terrifying argument. 

Then come learned doctors, to explain 
gravely that “ the witches are brewing storms.” 
The Lord Chancellor arrives. He announces 

that there is not enough money in the Treasury 

175 


176 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


to defray the expenses of the voyage! Em¬ 
barrassing predicament for a King and dash¬ 
ing young bridegroom! 

In this dual character, however, James 
Stuart is able to bear down all opposition. 

In a mere cockleshell of a ship, attended by 
his gay suite, he sets sail to taste sharply of 
the dangers foretold him. A furious tempest 
springs up, and the King’s little bark is all but 
overwhelmed by its ravening force. 

At last he arrives triumphant among the 
Norway snows. Leaving his train to seek their 
lodgings in the village as best they may, the 
ardent James rushes into the presence of Anne 
of Denmark. 

Her brown eyes, the brilliancy and liveliness 
which are commented upon by her contem¬ 
poraries, must have beamed tender welcome 
upon her royal spouse. He had risked his life 
to come to her aid! How delightfully roman¬ 
tic! What girl—be she a Queen—could ask 
more? 

The tale comes to a satisfactory ending, with 
the calm statement of the court chronicler: 

“ His Majesty was minded to give the 
Queen a kiss.” 



“I AM MADE EXTREMELY WEL¬ 
COME HERE ” 

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 1706-1790 

Said during his sojourn in France as American 

Envoy 

Benjamin Franklin thus mildly described 
the amazing adulation which he received in 
France, “ I am made extremely welcome here.” 

The volatile French adored the friendly, 
candid old man; his droll humor; his venerable 
aspect; his Quaker meekness. He was the 
fashion. He was applauded; copied; run after 
in the streets. Hats and canes were named af¬ 
ter him; his bust and medallion were in every 
shop window in Paris and in private houses. 

Benjamin Franklin had been sent to France 
by the Continental Congress as Envoy or Com¬ 
missioner, with two colleagues: Silas Deane 
and Arthur Lee. 

It was not only the man but his philosophy 
which aroused such fervid enthusiasm. France 
was awakening to the Tocsin of Liberty, and 
Benjamin Franklin stood for its glamor. The 
always easily moved emotions of the French 

overflowed in sympathy to the dwellers in the 

177 


178 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

immense solitudes of the New World. America 
and the American struggle for independence 
were on every tongue. 

The Aunerican Envoys were received by 
King Louis XVI, Le Grand Monarque, at 
Versailles, in March, 1778. 

The palace rang with plaudits as Benjamin 
Franklin appeared. He was in dark Quaker 
dress, with his grey hat under his arm, and his 
shoes unadorned by the usual silver buckles. 

The ladies of Paris vied with each other in 
complimenting him. On one occasion, at a 
large reception given in his honor, a bevy of 
the beautiful creatures crowned his white locks 
with flowers. How his keen sense of fun must 
have delighted in the scene! 

In the midst of all this popularity, Benjamin 
Franklin never forgot his country and its sa¬ 
cred cause. He talked and wrote and inter¬ 
viewed. Great diplomat that he was, he finally 
succeeded in his mission. The treaty of “ Amity 
and Commerce ” was signed between the King¬ 
dom of France and the United States of 
America. 


“I THINK I MAY PROMISE YOU 
SOMETHING LIKE A GOOD 
DAY’S SPORT” 

THE EIGHTH DUKE OF BEAUFORT, 

1824-1899 

At the beginning of the Greatwood Run 

Lovely English country—and “ seventeen 
and a half couples of the big dog pack.” See 
their long ears, “ nice bits of velvet,” and their 
pleading eyes! 

It is the Badminton Hunt, owned by the 
eighth Duke of Beaufort, the most enthusiastic 
and courteous of sportsmen. He remarks to 
an eager rider: 

“ I think I may promise you something like 
a good day’s sport.” 

Gone away! 

Every horse and rider quivers with rapture! 

The hounds settle down to run, and we hurl 
ourselves after them. Neck and neck—noth¬ 
ing matters—except the bliss of feeling our 
hunters rising and falling springily under 
us, and the sharp wind tingle against us. For 
the weather is keen, and the frost lies in slippery 

sparkles this bright February day. 

179 




180 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

The Huntsman is Lord Worcester, the 
Duke’s son. He wears the attractive buff and 
blue uniform of the Badminton Hunt and rides 
“ Beckford,” a famous old hunter, a “ flea- 
bitten grey.” 

On we dash, wildly excited with the thrill 
only fox-hunters know! Yet riding coolly, 
steadily, with horseman’s hands sparing our 
mounts. 

Now—a brook! Ah! Here will come a 
weeding out! Some charge it; some refuse; 
some go in—deeper than they thought for; 
some go round by the bridge. 

The hounds scatter the drops from their 
coats, and stream away after that Elysian 
smell! 

On through woods and farms and villages. 
The River Isis twice crossed. Till the hounds 
mark the fox to ground in a rabbit-hole. 

Only one couple of hounds is missing at the 
death. Less than a dozen riders finish and some 
of these are gamely running afoot! 

Thus ended a very famous fox-chase. 

The distance was fourteen miles from point 
to point; twenty-seven as hounds ran. The 
time was three hours and a half, and there was 
only one check of less than eight minutes. 





Drawn by H. Aiken' for R. Ackermann’s “Hunting Scraps18(11. 

“Gone Away! 










“ EITHER ATHENS MUST PERISH 

OR HER KING ” 

PRONOUNCEMENT OF ORACLE TO DORIAN 

INVADERS OF ATHENS, ABOUT 1066 b. c. 

Barbarous raiders approach the fair town 
of Athens. The Dorians are sweeping upon 
it, their fierce warriors vast in numbers. 

This invasion is all the more appalling be¬ 
cause of the pronouncement of the Oracle to 
the Dorians: “Either Athens must perish or 
her King.” 

This makes despair complete. For every 
roof-tree in Athens shall be torn down ere harm 
be allowed to come to beloved King Codrus. 

Hopelessly they prepare for defense. 

Meanwhile, through the honey-colored dusk, 
the figure of an Athenian peasant is stealing 
towards the camp of the Dorians. Reaching 
it, the fellow rudely accosts some Dorian sol¬ 
diers and provokes a quarrel. A quarrel which 
ends abruptly as one of the soldiers draws his 
dagger and stabs the peasant to the heart. 

With a jeering laugh the Dorian bends over 
the corpse, only to start back with a cry of 
horror. 


181 


182 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Who is this? What is here? 

In superstitious terror, the Dorians flee, to 
report to their officers. 

The sun rises, and those in Athens peer with 
dread towards the Dorian encampment. 

The Dorians have gone! Unaccountably 
they have fled, in the hour preceding their as¬ 
sured victorv. 

The Athenians rush forth triumphantly— 
but their feet are stayed by a quiet figure, 
which lies on the green grass. 

A peasant? 

Surely no peasant bore ever so majestic a 
mien. See—beneath his rags, the insignia of 
royalty! Alas—alas! It is King Codrus. 

He sacrificed himself, knowing that the 
Dorians, on learning of his death, would re¬ 
member the Oracle: 

“ Either Athens must perish or her King,” 
and withdraw in despair of victory. 

A kingly deed this! 

Aye—and it shall be kept in right kingly 
remembrance. For no Athenian henceforth 
shall be counted worthy to wear the crown of 
Codrus. 

Forever, Codrus shall be hailed as the last 
King of Athens. 



“ TWELVE MILES FROM A LEMON ” 
REV. SYDNEY SMITH, 1771-1845 
Said of his living in Yorkshire 

And how he dreaded the place! 

Sydney Smith, the wit, the raconteur, the 
charming diner-out, banished from London to 
the wilds of the country! 

Being presented with the Living of Foston- 
le-Clay in Yorkshire, being poor, and having 
a wife and children, Sydney Smith perforce 
accepted it. 

In his delightful letters, which he poured 
out to all his friends, Sydney Smith complains 
amusingly of the state in which he found his 
parish. No clergyman had lived there for one 
hundred and fifty years, owing to the blamable 
negligence on the subject of residence of the 
clergy. 

Now, by the passing of the Residence Bill, 
Sydney Smith was not only compelled to live 
“ twelve miles from a lemon,” but was also 
obliged to atone for the accumulated neglect of 

his predecessors, and to benefit his successors, 

183 


184 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

by building a parsonage out of his own small 
private means. 

This being finally accomplished on the very 
last day provided by the Bill, he writes: 

“ I landed my family in my new parsonage, 
performing my promise to the Archbishop by 
issuing forth at midnight with a lantern to 
meet the last cart with the cook and the cat, 
which had stuck in the mud.” 

A farm of three hundred acres went with the 
living, and Sydney Smith set about cultivating 
it with enthusiasm. He also started gardens 
for the poor, and was, as he writes of himself, 
village comforter, village magistrate, village 
doctor. 

During the epidemic of a contagious fever, 
he risked his life for his poor parishioners with 
devoted sacrifice. 

But it was in the pulpit that the serious side 
of the man appeared. There in the sacred edi¬ 
fice, his whole manner and mien changed. The 
weight of his duty and the authority of his of¬ 
fice brought to him the realization of the Mes¬ 
sage with which he was charged. 

Then indeed he became “ Sydney Smith, the 
Parson.” 


“ I REALLY DO NOT SEE THE 

SIGNAL! ” 

HORATIO, LORD NELSON, 1758-1805 
At the sea-fight of Copenhagen 

A battle at sea! 

The deck of the vessel heaves and tips be¬ 
neath the feet, and its planks are slippery with 
an awful ooze. The shriek of shells that tear 
through flapping sails; the snap and crash of 
falling masts; the blood-choked sob of the dy¬ 
ing. 

Can this murk of smoke be the air of the 
fresh sea? Where are the blessed Heavens 
hidden by dark and suffocating fog? 

The Elephant which bears the flag of Lord 
Nelson, Vice-Admiral, is fighting furiously, 
gallantly. It is the Battle of Copenhagen. 
The Alliance of Northern European Powers 
has made it necessary for the British Govern¬ 
ment to take vigorous measures. An English 
fleet has accordingly been brought to the Baltic 
on a difficult and dangerous mission, with Sir 
Hyde Parker in command. 

It is hard for Lord Nelson to take a sub- 

185 


186 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

ordinate position. He is the idol of the Eng¬ 
lish Navy, one of the most popular figures in 
the Nation. 

He paces the deck of the Elephant now in 
frantic excitement. The embodied flame of 
courage and resolution, he is always shaken 
during action; panting with an ardent patriot¬ 
ism for the glory of England. 

On rages the battle. Sea and sky reel about 
those waging it, and the laboring ship seems 
isolated in a world of horror and blood and 
pain. 

A signal from Sir Hyde Parker. 

What? A signal to “ cease action! ” 

Shall Englishmen retreat? A ship of the 
British Navy turn and sail away in the midst 
of a sea-fight? Never! 

But it is a command—a direct command— 
from his superior officer. How can Lord Nel¬ 
son disregard it? His men watch breathlessly. 

Lord Nelson is equal to the dilemma. He 
puts his glass to his one blind eye, that eye 
gloriously lost in the service of his country. He 
cries eagerly: 

“ I really do not see the signal! ” 

Fight on! 

Aye—fight they do, and win! 




“ PUT IT IN WITH ME ” 

LORD ARTHUR BALMERINO, 1688-1746 

Said on his way to trial for high treason 

A gallant old gentleman was Arthur, 
Sixth Baron Balmerino, and a most pugna¬ 
cious one! 

He had been “ out ” several times. That is, 
he was a Jacobite, loyal to the fading cause of 
the Stuart Kings of England, for whom he had 
spent his life fighting losing battles. 

Now in his old age, Lord Balmerino had 
been one of the first to go “ out ” again, with 
Charles Edward, the Young Pretender; so 
sweet a Prince that flesh and blood could not 
resist following him. Charles Edward’s strug¬ 
gles to regain the throne of his ancestors ended 
futilely, and Lord Balmerino was among those 
taken prisoner by the forces of King George II. 

The morning arrives for the Trial of the 
Rebel Lords. They are to be brought from 
the Tower of London, where they are im¬ 
prisoned, to Westminster Hall, in separate 
coaches. In one of these coaches, it was the 

custom to place the axe, with which the pris- 

187 


188 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

oners would be executed, should their trial go 
against them. 

Now, really, this is a horribly unpleasant 
thing! 

To face an axe—a sword—any instrument 
of death—in the glory and heat of battle; that 
is all very well. But to set out for a morning’s 
ride, and to have a wide-bladed axe, well- 
sharpened for the express purpose of chopping 
off our heads, put in the coach with us—that 
is an entirely different matter! 

In a great fluster, the gentleman-gaoler ar¬ 
gues that it is a time-honored routine. The axe 
must go in somebody’s coach. Won’t the gen¬ 
tlemen please be reasonable? 

Lord Balmerino sticks his soldierly old head 
out of the coach, where he sits in his rebellious 
regimentals of blue and red. 

“Come, come!” he calls, “I don’t mind. 
Put it in with me.” 

On the scaffold, one of Lord Balmerino’s 
last acts was to feel with a skilful finger the 
edge of that very axe. 




“I TAKE, IN THE NAME OF HIS 
MAJESTY, POSSESSION OF THIS 
COUNTRY OF LOUISIANA ” 

CHEVALIER ROBERT LA SALLE, 1643-1687 

On planting the French flag at the mouth of 

the Mississippi River 

Fifty-four persons—white men and their 
Indian guides—paddling their canoes down a 
great unknown river. Their adventurous 
progress leads them on into the mystery of a 
new world. 

It is the French explorer, the Chevalier 
Louis La Salle, and his followers. 

The majestic Mississippi is copper-colored in 
the sun—unfathomably black and menacing at 
night. On each side stretch interminable 
leagues of unexplored country which open 
with the multitudinous turns and twists of the 
river. 

On and on go the canoes. 

The bordering swamps show the budding 
flowers and tender foliage of early spring, and 
strange birds flutter over the fields. An ex¬ 
quisite haze gathers over the rivulets and 

streams that flood into the parent river. 

189 




190 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

At times terrible hurricanes sweep through 
the forest, mowing down wide swathes of trees. 
This leaves paths of tumbled wreckage. 

La Salle with intrepid courage and energy 
is endeavoring to map the course of the Mis¬ 
sissippi. As discoverer, he means to claim the 
adjacent country for his King, Louis XIV of 
France. 

La Salle is a man of stoic mettle; often stern 
and unsympathetic, always seeming to be both. 
He drives his companions on, relentlessly. 

After weeks of paddling comes the wonder¬ 
ful moment when the water is brackish and the 
breeze has a tang of salt. The expedition ap¬ 
proaches the ocean! 

The Gulf of Mexico is reached. On its shore 
La Salle plants the lilies of France. In awe 
and thankfulness, a Te Deum is sung. 

Then, standing with his face to the wine- 
purple sea, La Salle proclaims: 

“ I take, in the name of His Majesty, pos¬ 
session of this Country of Louisiana.” 

It is a vast tract which La Salle claims. 

“ From the Alleghenies to the Rocky Moun¬ 
tains; from the frozen northern springs of the 
Missouri to the sun-cracked deserts of the Rio 
Grande.” 


“ YOU WILL DIE THROUGH YOUR 
FAVORITE HORSE ” 

SAID BY WIZARD TO PRINCE OLEG OF 

RUSSIA 

In Ninth Century 

“ You will die through your favorite horse.” 

The strange, terrible denunciation rings 
through the Palace. The old Wizard, his long 
robes covered with cabalistic signs and symbols, 
pronounces it with portentous mystery. 

The courtiers shiver in an apprehension, 
which is half fearful, half fraught with a de¬ 
licious curiosity, as they watch Prince Oleg to 
see how he will bear the Wizard’s statement of 
his approaching death. 

Prince Oleg sees their glances. So! He will 
show them how a Prince meets and overcomes 
danger! He is of a gallant race—the Norse 
tribe of Russia. He rules the Princedom of 
Novgorod as Regent during the minority of 
his young kinsman, Prince Igo. 

He motions the Wizard away, and considers 
calmly how he can prevent the fulfillment of 
the cruel prophecy. He comes to a safe re¬ 
solve. He gives orders that this favorite steed 

191 


192 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

of his shall be taken far out into the country, 
and well cared for. 

As obsequious courtiers spring to do his bid¬ 
ding, the Prince adds sternly: “ See to it that 
he is never saddled for me to back again.” 

Months and years pass. 

Many are the fine horses which fill Prince 
Oleg’s stables; many are his pleasant rides. 
But he never forgets the favorite charger of 
his youth. 

He happens at last, one summer day, to ap¬ 
proach the place to which he had banished the 
horse. He stops and asks for him, and is told 
that he is long since dead. 

In meditative mood, Prince Oleg, surrounded 
by his court, strolls out into the field to see 
the skeleton. Idly he touches the bleached 
skull with his foot. 

“ How vain,” he murmurs, “ were the Wiz¬ 
ard’s words. My poor steed is dead, and I 
still live.” 

On the instant, from the skull of his favorite 
horse darts forth a poisonous viper. The rep¬ 
tile stings Prince Oleg’s foot, and within an 
hour the mighty Prince is dead. 


“ I WOULD THAT THE PEOPLE OF 
ROME HAD BUT ONE NECK ” 

CAIUS CALIGULA, THIRD EMPEROR OF 
ROME, 12-41 a. d. 

On being opposed by the common people 

Emperor! Nay, say rather Butcher! For 
he prefers murdering his unfortunate subjects 
to protecting and ruling them. 

Quite true! All the same, my young friend, 
you must speak lower, or the Emperor’s guards 
will hear you, and drag you off. You will end 
in one of those pleasant little underground 
dungeons, where, it is said, the mighty Caligula 
amuses himself by torturing people! 

We are two patricians of early Rome. We 
stand in the crowd to watch the litter of Caius 
Caligula, our Third Emperor, being borne in 
to the Gladiatorial Games in regal pomp. 
Curtains of purple cotton studded with golden 
stars hang in rich folds, and within reclines 
Caligula. 

Bah! He is jeweled and perfumed like a 
woman! There is no end to his extravagances 

and the luxuries with which he pampers him- 

193 


194 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

self. Even his stables are built of marble and 
ivory, and his pleasure barge is set with pre¬ 
cious stones. Think what good might accrue to 
the State and Army from all the wealth he 
squanders! 

I don’t mind his extravagance so much as 
his brutality. If there be any form of cruelty 
which he has not inflicted upon his people, it 
is only because it has not happened to occur to 
him! His perverted nature, with its callous 
and defective sympathies, delights in human 
suffering and butchery. 

These Games have immensely increased in 
barbarity during his reign. 

Hark! The populace applauds. 

Alas for them! They applaud the very 
gladiators whom Caligula wished to see over¬ 
thrown. Now what expression will his ven¬ 
geance take on their implied opposition to his 
royal will? 

We push nearer the Emperor’s seat. We 
see him start up in a rage, a fury wild and 
vindictive. Distinctly we hear him hiss: 

“ I would that the people of Rome had but 
one neck—that I might strike it off in one 
blow! ” 

Agreeable person—Caligula! 


“ DON’T FIRE TILL YOU SEE THE 
WHITES OF THEIR EYES ” 

COLONEL WILLIAM PRESCOTT, 1726-1795 
At the Battle of Bunker Hill 

The British Forces occupy Boston, but we 
Colonists are in possession of two hills just 
outside the town, one owned by Mr. Bunker, 
and the other by Mr. Breed. 

Inexperienced volunteers—are we ? Wearied 
with the trench work of the past night—are 
we? 

We have dug ourselves in as best we may. 
Some farmers were mowing these fields yes¬ 
terday, and we stuff the grass against the rail 
fence, and crouch behind. 

An officer on a white horse is riding furiously 
about. 

“That is old Put!” cry the Connecticut 
boys. 

Steadily the long column of English start 
up towards us. Their bands are playing mar¬ 
tial music, to which the redcoats swing in per¬ 
fect time. White cross belts and bright buckles 
offer tantalizing marks — 

But Colonel William Prescott commands: 

195 



196 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

“ Don’t fire till you see the whites of their 
eyes.” 

As we wait, breathlessly, we observe that the 
roofs of the houses in Boston are crowded with 
people, watching to see us beaten. If we are, 
it will be because we have only a gill of powder 
in our horns. 

Now! We have shot partridges at a farther 
distance. 

Take aim! Fire! 

A sudden crack; a rattle; a roar. A white 
cloud all along the rail fence. As it clears, we 
see the front rank of our enemy broken—men 
reeling and falling. 

Gallantly the English reform. Proudly 
they sweep up again. Again the choking wait 
—the deafening roar—the windrow of men. 

For the third time the brave fellows try. 

This time they succeed in sweeping us from 
our entrenchment. 

Y r es. The English have won the Battle of 
Bunker Hill. 

But so many of their men are killed, and so 
few of ours, that well may one of their Officers 
quote the bitter saying of Pyrrhus, King of 
Epirus: “ Such another victory, and we are 
undone.” 


“WHILE THERE IS LIFE, THERE 

IS HOPE” 

REV. PATRICK BRONT&, 1774-1861 

His last words 

Mr. Bronte’s bedroom is over his study. 

In this bleak parsonage of Haworth, in 
Yorkshire, he has lived for more than forty 
years, a singularly isolated life. Isolated first 
by the peculiar reserves of his own character, 
his strange, lonely, indomitable spirit; also by 
the situation of the place which is surrounded 
by the austere beauty of the great moors. The 
cold air is freighted with haunting, pungent 
smells. 

The barren grounds of the parsonage lead 
down to the wall of the churchyard. Through 
a doorway in that wall, Mr. Bronte has seen 
borne, successively, the coffins of his wife, his 
sister-in-law, and his six children. 

The last three of his daughters were writers, 
whose works will be read and loved as long as 
English literature survives. They shared their 
father’s dogged courage and independence of 

spirit, and fought hard for their lives against 

197 


198 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

the insidious attacks of consumption, the family 
curse. 

And now the silence; the grey melancholy; 
the passionate, unforgettable regrets. The 
mists close down to hang in frayed rags on the 
gravestones, those ever-increasing grave¬ 
stones that have crept nearer and nearer the 
house. During the purple nights; the days of 
pale sunshine; this blind old man remains in 
the home that is left to him, desolate. Does he 
remember that his wife, in the days of their 
courtship—ah! how long ago—used to call him 
with rosy blushes, her “ dear, saucy Pat! ” 

There is a faithful watcher by Mr. Bronte’s 
bedside. Rev. Arthur Nicholls, his curate, 
and son-in-law, the widower of his daughter 
Charlotte. To him, at the very last, Mr. 
Bronte tries to impart some of that intrepidity 
that rallies his own heart. He says gently: 

“ While there is life, there is hope.” 

After that, there is no more said in the quiet 
room. 

Out on the wide moor, the wind rushes with 
a triumphant pean up to the waiting skies. 




“ HONOR IS THE VERY BREATH IN 
OUR NOSTRILS ” 

JEFFREY HUDSON, DWARF AND PAGE TO 
QUEEN HENRIETTE MARIA OF ENGLAND, 
IN SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 

Said on occasion of fighting a duel 

A duel! A duel to the death! 

The Honorable Mr. Crofts is the challenged 
party, he having insulted his opponent by ref¬ 
erences to personal characteristics which no 
gentleman may brook. Mr. Crofts has named 
pistols as the weapons, and the combatants 
fight on horseback. 

Mr. Crofts advances now across the meas¬ 
ured ground—but who is this that comes to 
meet him—a dwarf? Yes—a dwarf. His 
head, hands, and feet are preposterously large 
for his height of three feet, nine inches, al¬ 
though his countenance might be considered 
handsome. 

It is Jeffrey Hudson. His grotesque at¬ 
tributes have made him, after the fashion of his 
day, Court Buffoon and Jester, and his royal 
Mistress, Queen Henriette Maria, humors his 
oddities. 


199 



200 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Young Mr. Crofts, in company with all the 
gay courtiers, laughs at and plagues the tiny 
man, whose irascibility under the teasing has 
provoked at last this quarrel. Jeffrey Hudson, 
for all his diminutive stature, is brave enough. 
During the Civil Wars, he actually and with 
great gallantry commanded a troop of horse! 

Now the signal is given. 

Mr. Crofts, carrying the joke still farther, 
produces a squirt by way of his own weapon, 
and with delighted mischief, squirts water all 
over his small antagonist. Shouts of joy arise 
from the bystanders at the drenched and miser¬ 
able appearance of the poor dwarf. 

Jeffrey Hudson’s humiliation and rage know 
no bounds. He presses Mr. Crofts so closely 
that the young gentleman is forced to betake 
himself to more serious arms than his toy 
squirt. 

Jeffrey Hudson is a famous shot. He fires 
his pistol pointblank at the heart of the Honor¬ 
able Mr. Crofts. That unfortunate young 
gentleman’s last joke is sped. 

He crashes from his saddle—dead! 

The fierce little dwarf looks down at him. 

He says grandiloquently: 

“ Honor is the very breath in our nostrils.” 



99 


“ IS THIS JERUSALEM? 

ASKED BY THE CHILDREN OF THE CHIL¬ 
DREN’S CRUSADE, 1212 

“ Is this Jerusalem? ” 

This fair vision of a city, with turrets that 
are marble lace against an azure curtain of 
sky. Is this Jerusalem? These wide streets 
strewn with the softest of rose petals for our 
weary little feet, and where milk and honey 
await us, in the silver mugs we knew at home. 

Alas for the vision! 

It fades, and we see again only one more 
earthly city—of hard, cold pavements and 
dirty alleys, where hunger and disease and 
cruelty lurk for our tender forms. 

We must still drag ourselves onward. On¬ 
ward—to reach the Holy City which we are 
to wrest in glorious triumph from the In¬ 
fidel. For by one of those strange waves of 
impetus, almost hypnotic in their influence, 
which sweep multitudes to some concerted ac¬ 
tion, we children of the Middle Ages go forth 
gladly to conquer the Holy Land. Surely the 
gentlest, most innocent army the world has 
ever seen. 


201 



202 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Our Leaders, the heroic young shepherd 
Stephen, and the sweet lad Nicolas, assure us 
that we shall fare easily and shall “ be led 
through the seas dry-shod.” We believe them. 

We have followed them, slowly walking in 
our thousands and tens of thousands, a grad¬ 
ually augmenting crowd, down across all the 
continent of Europe. At every town and 
hamlet we have gained recruits—more chil¬ 
dren—to our Sacred Cause. 

Yet many and many a little form has been 
left in a rest which shall last forever, beneath 
sheltering green branches. Many a tired little 
head has drooped by a wayside stream, to 
mingle its curls with the lilies drifting on the 
mirroring water. 

It is a miracle that any of us wander so far— 
that some of us at last reach the sea at Mar¬ 
seilles. 

The ending is the most wicked deed in his¬ 
tory. 

Our pitiful remnant is kidnapped by slave- 
dealers, and sold into Egypt. 


99 


“ A DINNER FIT FOR A KING! 

ANTHELME BRILLAT-SAVARIN, 1755-1826 
In describing his favorite menu 

“ A rich soup; a small turbot; a saddle of 
venison; an apricot tart: this is a dinner fit 
for a king! ” 

It certainly sounds good! 

How respectable to be able to call our fond 
interest in matters of the table—an interest 
which we share with all mankind—“ Transcen¬ 
dental Gastronomy.” That is what Monsieur 
Brillat-Savarin, the French gastronomist, 
called the theory and art of dining. 

He was a curious man. 

He served his country in various civic posi¬ 
tions with sufficient acumen and dignity, but 
his real preoccupation was always with food. 
He went so far as to wish to found a “ Gas- 
tronomical Academy.” The modern enthusi¬ 
asm for reducing our dinners to calories would 
have intrigued him greatly. 

He invented tests by which he gauged his 
friends’ powers of gastronomic appreciation. 

Sausage with sauerkraut and a roast turkey 

203 



204 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

stuffed with chestnuts, he considered, should 
call only for the polite commendation: “ That 
looks well.” But a pheasant; asparagus; truf¬ 
fles; ortolans; and a pyramid of sweetmeats 
flavored with rose and vanilla should arouse 
the rapturous exclamation: 44 Sir, your cook is 
a man of mind! ” 

During the French Revolution, Brillat- 
Savarin fled to the United States. Being an 
extremely versatile person, he earned his living 
by playing in the orchestra of a New York 
theater. 

He was entertained hospitably. He has left 
solemn testimony to the good-living in Amer¬ 
ica, particularly to the plumpness of the wild 
fowl. 

He was taken shooting in woods which he 
wearily describes as being 44 five mortal leagues 
from Hartford, Connecticut.” He shot, among 
other things, some grey squirrels which he 
showed his host how to 44 stew in Madeira ”—to 
their mutual satisfaction! 

He praises the New England open wood 
fires, and naively remarks, 44 This custom 
doubtless comes from the Indians, who always 
have a fire in their huts ”—for cooking, of 
course! 


99 


“THE ANGEL OF HADLEY! 

SAID OF JUDGE WILLIAM GOFFE, 1605-1679 

We, the good people of the Settlement of 
Hadley in the Connecticut River Valley, have 
come to Meeting, with our Bibles in one hand 
and our guns in the other. For in this year 
of Our Lord 1675, Indians lurk—Red Var¬ 
mints that they are—in every shadow, ready to 
pounce and scalp. 

As the “ Seventhly, my brethren,” rolls from 
the tongue of our worthy Minister—an awful 
sound arises from the colored Autumn woods 
—Merciful Father* in Heaven! Unmistakable 
to any who has ever heard it—it is the Indian 
war-whoop! 

Our blood curdles in our veins, and we hud¬ 
dle together. 

As we strive to rally, suddenly in our midst 
appears a grave, venerable person. No one 
saw from whence he came. In our confusion 
we realize only that somehow, in dress or mien, 
he differs from our people. 

Instantly he takes command of us, with the 
calm authority of one used to control men, and 

to animate them by his presence. 

205 



206 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

It is time. For nearer and nearer come our 
howling foe, and arrows are winging and 
flashing through the sunlight. 

There are a few moments of dreadful con¬ 
fusion—of firing—of noise—of smoke—of the 
terror that walketh by day. 

Then—as quickly as it began—the attack is 
over. For the Indians, realizing that they are 
confronted with a more determined enemy than 
they expected, take a hasty departure. 

Breathless, thankful, confused, we turn to 
thank our rescuer. 

But he has gone! Vanished! 

In amazement which partakes of consterna¬ 
tion we stare about us! 

Then a whisper begins. 

It was Goffe—Major-General William 
Goffe—one of the Judges of King Charles I 
of England. 

It is known that he is in hiding in this coun¬ 
try. 

Ah! yes—it was Goffe—who came from his 
cave in the woods, to be “ the angel of Had¬ 
ley!" 








“ IN A MEADOW CALLED RUNNY- 
MEDE BY THE THAMES ” 

FROM DESCRIPTION OF THE SIGNING OF 
MAGNA CHARTA, BY KING JOHN OF 
ENGLAND, 1167-1216 

So! They expect me to sign away the priv¬ 
ileges and rights of the Crown of England! 

I, John the King— I, whom men will call 
“ the ablest and most ruthless of the Angevins 
—or Plantagenets.” 

I ride over every day through the lovely 
June weather, from Windsor. Unfortunately 
not many gentlemen follow in my train. Most 
of the Barons and Noblemen are banded to¬ 
gether against me. 

They have drawn up a document which they 
call Magna Charta. They declare it to be a 
“ Charter of Liberties.” Bah! 

I meet the Barons “ in a meadow called 
Runnymede by the Thames.” Lovely spot! 
Why cannot we enjoy it? 

But my haughty Barons even object to my 
ways of amusing myself. They dare to say 
that I flaunt vices of the most sordid kind. 

Day after day for more than a week our 

207 


208 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


conferences have lasted, here in a gorgeous 
pavilion by the river. My royal robes hardly 
vie with the splendid apparel of my enemies. 
For that is what these men are. 

Little by little they are wringing concessions 
from me. 

They attack now what they stigmatize as the 
oppressive forest laws. Oppressive? Non¬ 
sense! They have merely condemned to muti¬ 
lation or death any hind or common man who 
trespassed within the royal forests. If a man 
was found with a speck of blood on his clothes, 
he was hung to the nearest tree with his own 
bowstring. And every dog within miles of the 
outskirts of the forests was crippled by having 
three claws of its forefeet chopped off. 

I am losing point after point in the struggle. 
I shall have to give in soon. 

I appeal to the Prelates. They strive un- 
availingly to bring peace amongst us. 

Well, it will be easy enough to prove after¬ 
wards that I was coerced by force. 

Therefore I sign Magna Charta. But in my 
heart I repudiate even now my own signature. 



King John Seals Magna Charta. 
















“ WHAT MAN CAN CALCULATE ON 
WHAT A GIRL WILL SAY OR DO? ” 


SAID OF FORTUNATA, A RAJPUT PRINCESS 

Twelfth Century 

A courtyard in the Palace of a great Rajah 
of India. 

Trumpet-flowers hang in curtains beyond 
swaying fountains. Tiny monkeys, with tails 
dyed pink and wearing gilt collars, cling in 
looping vines. 

A splendid company is gathered here. 
Gleaming scimitars; flowing veils; jewels 
strung recklessly like pebbles on a string. 

The ceremony called “ Self Choice ” is about 
to take place. The Rajah’s only daughter, 
Princess Fortunata, is to choose her husband, 
among all the young Princes of India as¬ 
sembled here for her inspection. 

All, that is, except one—her wicked twenty- 
year-old cousin, Prince Prithvi. He is repre¬ 
sented in derision by an image of clay. 

Prithvi is of the Fire-born Race and is claim¬ 
ing the Kingships of Delhi and Ajmir—to 

which Princess Fortunata’s father himself as- 

209 



210 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


pires. So of course Prithvi must be wicked— 
the girl has been told so since her childhood. 

She stands now, looking very sweet and in¬ 
nocent, holding the marriage garland, which 
each watching Prince longs to feel her put 
about his neck. Suddenly, she speeds across 
the courtyard, and places the marriage wreath 
about the neck of Prince Prithvi’s clay image. 

Papa may curse—but the deed is done! In 
despair the old gentleman sighs: 

“ What man can calculate on what a girl 
will say or do? ” 

Then on the wings of fierce love and pride 
arrives Prince Prithvi—the bold lover; the 
recklessly brave knight-errant; the pattern of 
all Rajput virtues. He is followed by a band 
of youthful heroes, ready, like himself, for 
fighting or for kisses. 

They steal the willing Princess Fortunata— 
and sweep her away in their midst. 

The fighting comes first—five desperate days 
of it—as they battle their way to Delhi. Many 
of the dear, brave lads are left dead or dying. 

But the dearest and the bravest holds his 
sweetheart close, unharmed—and so the kisses 
come at last. 




“ THE FORTUNE OF WAR! ” 

REIS DRAGUT OR TORGHUD, BARBARY 
CORSAIR, IN SIXTEENTH CENTURY 

When serving as galley-shave 

The hell of the galleys! 

Heavily chained to an oar, pulling at order 
of these “ dogs of Christians.” Gazing upon 
the weals, kept raw in the bare back of the 
man in front by the lash of the boatswain— 
feeling the same cruel stripes upon his own 
shrinking flesh. 

Dragut has come to this! 

He had been a Reis—or Captain—of Bar- 
barossa, chief of the Barbary Corsairs. Dragut, 
in gay command of a dozen galleys himself, 
had ravaged the Mediterranean, and worked 
measureless mischief upon Christian vessels. 
He had snapped up, here, a ship richly laden 
from India; there, one as richly fraught from 
Flanders; or crammed with merchandise from 
England. Their crews he made his slaves. 

A merry life—if a dangerous one—those 
bold pirates led. In time of need they could 

retreat to their strongly fortified places on the 

211 





212 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Barbary Coast, to revel in the spoils of their 
affrays. 

But in one of the sea-fights, Dragut had been 
taken captive by Doria, High Admiral of 
Genoa. And here he tugs at the galley oar. 

One day, sweating in misery and filth, Dra¬ 
gut looks up to the poop-deck, envying the 
knights and gentlemen who lounge there under 
the embroidered canopy. Christians they are 
—with a White Cross waving on their standard. 

Suddenly Dragut sees an old acquaintance. 
It is La Valette, Grand Master of the Knights 
of Malta. La Valette had once pulled the 
captive’s oar on Barbarossa’s ships. 

He leans now over the railing of the poop 
and greets the ex-Corsair. 

Dragut smiles up at him, with unquenchable 
gayety and courage. 

“ Ah! Senor! ” he calls. “ The fortune of 
war! ” 

We cannot but be glad when, by “ the for¬ 
tune of war,” Dragut is ransomed three years 
later by Barbarossa for three thousand crowns. 


“ MY SISTERS, THE BIRDS, YE ARE 
GREATLY BEHOLDEN TO GOD 
FOR THE ELEMENT OF 
THE AIR ” 

SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI, 1181-1226 

Through the woods goes a man in grey 
habit and cowl. 

Down the long aisles of the trees, where 
frail flakes of sunlight lie on green mosses. 
By pools of still water, where reeds and grasses 
merge into their own reflections. Out across 
sunny fields of lilies, in the hills of Umbria. 

Here and there he stops by the Wayside 
Shrines to pray. Then, standing where holy 
shadows touch him, he preaches—and the wild 
creatures come out of their woodland haunts 
to listen. A terrible and fierce wolf that had 
menaced the countryside “ lifted up his right 
paw and confidingly laid it in his hand.” 

Birds—swallows and doves and larks—sit in 
rows to hear his lovely words. To these he 
says: 

“ My sisters, the birds, ye are greatly be¬ 
holden to God for the element of the air.” 

They do not fear him. 

213 





214 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Why should they? He never frights them 
with gestures of misunderstanding. 

His knowledge of Nature comes from his 
love of it. 

A love so great that it embraces all its 
manifestations, even those human beings who 
are wicked and ill and sad and sullen. These 
unfortunates he tends with skilful tenderness. 

He also, with quaint affection, names fire 
“ Brother,” and water “ Sister.” 

He is Francis of Assisi, Monk; Ascetic; 
Mystic; Saint. 

Under Pope Innocent III, he has instituted 
what was at first the Confraternity—later the 
Three Orders—of Franciscans. 

By Saint Francis’ rule, all his Friars were 
bound to serve the Lord with gladness, with 
songs. One of the loving names bestowed 
upon them was the “ Jongleurs of God.” They 
were also called “ The Seraphic Order,” from 
the little Chapel of Saint Mary of the Angels, 
at Assisi, their first place of prayer. 

Toward the end of Saint Francis’ life, a 
nameless rapture of vision came to him, “ and 
then he saw on his body the Stigmata.” 



“ YOUR SON HAS A NATURAL EN¬ 
THUSIASM FOR LETTERS ” 

HERODOTUS, GREEK HISTORIAN, 
484-425 b. c. 

Said of the young Thucydides 

Athenian society has gathered in brilliant 
assemblage for “ recreation of the spirit.” 
There is the quietude of breathless appreciation 
and delight through the beautiful building. 
The most cultured and intellectual men of their 
time are here, many of whom are themselves 
famous orators and writers. 

They stand and sit in stately groups where 
marble perpetuates noble thoughts. Where 
time treads with the winged sandals of music, 
and space is measured by beauty. 

Herodotus, the great historian, begins a 
Recitation from his History of the Persian 
War of Invasion into Greece. He has spent 
long years of travel and study in compiling 
the materials for this great work, and his voice 
rings out now on its chiseled periods. 

The inspiration of his vision lifts us as we 
listen. He sweeps us up to heights, whence 

we behold, unfolding before us, magnificent 

215 


216 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

breadths of view. The broad outlook is 
sketched in vivid, picturesque language. The 
laws and the poetry of many peoples lie be¬ 
neath our gaze. 

In the audience sits Olorus, a valued friend 
of Herodotus, accompanied by his young son. 

The boy listens in rapt attention to the ca- 
denced voice speaking in such melodious Ionic 
dialect. So this is life! And this the art of 
man, which can transmute the raw ore of Na¬ 
ture’s passions and aspirations and appetites 
into arrows of gold that shall point out to hu¬ 
manity the paths they tread, and their in¬ 
evitable goals. 

Could he but help to mint that ore! The lad 
clasps his hands, and tears dim his gaze, up¬ 
lifted to the orator. 

Herodotus notes the youth’s emotion. After 
the lecture, he seeks Olorus, and says quietly: 
“ Your son has a natural enthusiasm for let¬ 
ters.” 

Aye, an enthusiasm indeed, which shall but 
increase with the years, until it bears wonderful 
blossom. 

For this youth is Thucydides, the future dis¬ 
tinguished historian of Greece. 


“ A THOUSAND MEN! WHAT A 

HOST! ” 

GIUSEPPE GARIBALDI, 1807-1882 
On counting his soldiers in the Sicilian 

EXPEDITION 

Men —waiting and watching with thrilling 
pulses, on the seashore near Genoa, Italy. Dis¬ 
persed in groups, some sitting on the ribbed 
rocks; others strolling through the laurel 
thickets, they wait all through the calm, moon¬ 
lit night for the steamers which are to take 
them on a wild, romantic expedition. 

It is the spring of 1860. Victor Emmanuel 
II, King of Sardinia, is struggling to unite all 
the small Italian states into one great Italy and 
to free the entire country from foreign claims. 
The Island of Sicily has joined the patriots 
and has appealed to Garibaldi, one of Victor 
Emmanuel’s Generals, to head them. 

Garibaldi, with his heavy sword balanced 
across his shoulder, strides down a broken foot- 
track to the shore. He wears the grey punico 
or cloak, souvenir of his exploits as soldier of 
fortune in South America. Underneath is the 

plain red shirt, afterwards famous as the garb 

217 


218 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

of Italian Independence. His heart is beating 
in generous emotion with the chivalrous love of 
country. 

It is almost dawn before the two steamers 
come in sight. Pell-mell, the little rowboats 
put out to them, the men tumbling in and 
pulling the cases of arms on top of them in 
their haste and excitement. Back and forth 
ply the little boats, till all are on board, when 
away go the steamers. 

“ How many are we, all told? ” asks Gari¬ 
baldi. 

He is answered that there are a thousand 
men, including the sailors. 

“ A thousand men! What a host! ” he re¬ 
plies triumphantly. 

Garibaldi’s aide-de-camp stares at him in 
amazement. What sort of a General is this, 
who considers only one thousand men a host 
with which to attack the vast Neapolitan forces 
occupying the Island of Sicily? 

But under such a leader they prove enough! 
In the space of three weeks, the whole Island 
is theirs. 

Garibaldi proclaims himself Dictator of 
Sicily, in the name of King Victor Emmanuel 
II. 


“ POLAND! IT IS THY END! ” 


GENERAL THADDEUS KOSCIUSZKO, 

1746-1817 

As HE WAS TAKEN PRISONER BY THE RUSSIANS 

Horrible day—in which we lost our liberty, 
and witnessed the events that precipitated the 
total ruin of our beloved country, Poland. 

We make the final stand near our city of 
Warsaw this Autumn day of 1794, against the 
Russian forces, which far outnumber us. Our 
leader and hero, Thaddeus Kosciuszko, seems 
to be in all the hottest places of the battle at 
once, crying that it is for our native land we 
fight. Three chargers have already been shot 
under him. 

The roar of cannon and musketry thunder 
about us. The very air is rendered lurid and 
tremendous by the long spires of flame stream¬ 
ing from burning buildings, to mingle with the 
smoke of battle. Our comrades stagger, 
wounded—dying—and our eyes are blasted 
with sights of horror. Almost maddened, we 
fight on, dripping with the blood of our own 
bodies and those of our dearest fellow-country¬ 


men. 


219 


220 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

The hurrahs of the victors pierce and harrow 
our souls, as they trample over our dead. 

Always before us, animating our fainting 
ranks, appears the noble figure of Kosciuszko. 
His smooth-shaven face, and long, dark hair 
render him conspicuous. 

We dispute with him every inch of ground, 
yielding it to our enemies only when it is 
strewn with mangled corpses—these last vic¬ 
tims to their country. 

But see! O culminating despair! 

Kosciuszko reels in the saddle. A Russian 
chasseur whirls to strike the head of the fall¬ 
ing patriot, and beat him to the ground. 

Scarcely breathing, Kosciuszko is made 
prisoner. As he is dragged away, he gasps: 

“ Poland! It is thy end! ” 

Yes—the last act of the tragedy follows! 
The division and partitioning of Poland. 

No appeal to the Nations of the world saved 
her. Only one-third of her land was left her 
—the rest went to the “ Three Eagles ” of 
Russia and of her allies, Prussia and Austria. 


“ COTTON IS KING ” 

JAMES HENRY HAMMOND, 1807-1864 
Speech in the United States Senate 

The United States Senate is sitting in 
august assemblage. It is the year of 1858. 

One of its members, James Henry Ham¬ 
mond, is speaking. He has been elected by his 
native state of South Carolina by an over¬ 
whelming vote. He is tall, bald-headed and 
spectacled, and he stands with a confident 
swing on his long legs. 

His musical voice sounds in fine periods— 
but his subjects are unpopular with the 
Northern members. 

Mr. Hammond owns slaves. He believes in 
so doing. A few years earlier, when Governor 
of South Carolina, he wrote a general defense 
of the institution of slavery. 

He declares now, emphatically, that the gen¬ 
tlemen of the South are old-fashioned and not 
afraid to call negroes slaves. Fortunately for 
the South, he continues, in her raising of cot¬ 
ton, she found a race adapted to that purpose 

to her hand. As a matter of fact, he adds 

221 


222 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

sarcastically, “ the North has just such a class 
of people, the very mud-sills of society.” 

It was natural that such an expression should 
give deep offense to the people of the North. 
It was to earn its author the title “ Mud-sill 
Hammond.” 

Mr. Hammond continues now, in praise of 
cotton. The South, he says, has “ every staple 
which the North produces, and in addition cot¬ 
ton.” 

Visions float through the dignified Senate 
Chamber. In the haze of sunlight from high 
windows shimmer cotton-fields—rows of rip¬ 
ened plants spilling fluffy snow; rows of 
negroes, men and women, their black faces 
shining with sweat; their black shoulders heav¬ 
ing through torn garments. Patiently they 
sway, to the endless croon of songs—those 
darky songs—monotonous, slumberous, born of 
sordid superstitions and haunting, melancholy 
beauty. 

The Senate starts a little, as from a dream, 
when Mr. Hammond’s voice rings out that 
cotton cultivated by slaves is America’s most 
important product, that indeed “ Cotton is 
King.” 



“ HOW DIDST THOU WARN HIM?” 

EMPEROR KEIKO OF JAPAN, IN FIRST 

CENTURY, a. d. 

To HIS SON, AT IMPERIAL BANQUET 

The garden of the Emperor lies darkly un¬ 
der the stars. Water whispers coolly in flat 
canals that are spanned by crescent bridges of 
rustic woods. Lavender perfumes of wisteria 
blossoms drift on the balmy air, and stone lan¬ 
terns give out green gleams. 

Within the palace, Keiko, the Emperor of 
Japan, sits robed in silks hued like a thousand 
petals of flowers, and his still face is unsmiling. 

All the courtiers attend the Emperor’s ban¬ 
quet, to do him honor. 

Ornamented vessels of earthenware hold 
shell-fish and the five sacred grains: rice, mil¬ 
let, barley, and two kinds of beans. Saki, yel¬ 
lowish-white and thick with sugar, is warmed 
for the pleasures of quicker intoxication, and 
served in cups marvelously fashioned of oak 
leaves. 

Only one seat is empty, that of Keiko’s 
eldest son, the Crown Prince, who has no love 
for formal occasions. 

Keiko summons his younger son, Yamato- 

223 


224 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

dake, “ the young and fresh-colored and very 
gallant Prince.” Keiko bids him see to his 
elder brother’s absence, and warn him to make 
his appearance at all Imperial banquets. 

Yamato-dake promises to obey. 

Days pass. 

Again, on a night of fragrant starlight, all 
the court of Keiko gather to his feast. Again 
the seat of the Crown Prince is empty. 

The great Emperor motions Prince Y^amato- 
dake to his footstool. 

“ Where is thy elder brother? ” demands 
Keiko, with cold sternness. “ Hast thou 
warned him? ” 

The young Prince replies that he has. 

“ How didst thou warn him? ” asks Keiko. 

“ I killed him,” replies Y r amato-dake, “ and 
threw his carcass away.” 

No one seems to have been particularly 
shocked, callous Orientals that they were. 

It is on record, however, that Keiko sent 
Yamato-dake away—far into the country— 
shortly afterwards, to fight bandits. 

Perhaps the old gentleman feared that his 
“ fresh-colored ” son might “ warn ” him if he 
happened to do anything which the boy dis¬ 
liked! 


“TREASON! THE CROWN IS 

STOLEN! ” 

TALBOT EDWARDS, ASSISTANT-KEEPER 
OF THE CROWN JEWELS OF 
ENGLAND, 1594-1674 

Alarm when Colonel Blood stole the State 

Crown 

Bound and gagged! Oh! The j ewels! My 
charge—the Crown Jewels of England. The 
miscreants and thieves. 

Oh! That blow on my head with their 
wooden mallet was a terrific one. 

I trusted Blood as a familiar friend! How 
could I suspect him this morning when he 
sauntered in here to the Tower of London with 
some friends to see the Crown Jewels? Any 
one is welcome to see them, and the small fees 
paid are my perquisite. 

Old as I am, I’ll outwit them yet. I’ll pre¬ 
tend to be as they consider me—dead. 

What are they up to now? 

I shall go mad with horror! Blood is coolly 
knocking flat the King’s State Crown, so that 
it will fit into a bag he carries—some of the 

jewels are falling out. There goes the Great 

225 



226 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Ruby, as large as a hen’s egg, that was given 
the Black Prince by the King of Castille for 
knightly valor on the field of battle. It rolls 
upon the floor, and Blood snatches it up. 

Why don’t the skies fall on the villain? 

One of his accomplices jams the Orb into 
the slack of his breeches—the Orb of England, 
with its jeweled Cross standing on its mar¬ 
velous amethyst. 

Now they go quietly away. 

But hurrah! I am able to wriggle free and 
yell with all my heart and lungs: “ Treason! 
The Crown is stolen! ” 

The alarm thus given by old Mr. Edwards 
led to the quick capture of the thieves. 

But the strangest part of the story is its end- 
ing! 

King Charles II pardoned Colonel Blood 
and gave him a place in his body-guard, with 
a salary of five hundred pounds a year for life! 

What were the Merry Monarch’s reasons? 

Had His Majesty, being as usual out of 
cash, put Blood up to stealing his own crown 
for him? 



“ MY LIFE IS BOUND UP WITH 
YOURS—MY OWN FIRST AND 
LAST LOVE” 

ROBERT BROWNING, 1812-1889 
Letter to Elizabeth Barrett 

Tread softly—oh! go softly. 

How the stairs creak! 

Hold Flush close, lest he bark—no, I’ll 
carry the packet of letters myself. 

What is this! 

Robert Browning’s captive sweetheart, who 
for one week has been his secret wife, is creep¬ 
ing from her home, accompanied by her maid 
and her little dog, to meet him and elope to 
Italy. 

Captive, indeed, Elizabeth Barrett had been, 
and to a cruel father. For with a despotism as 
curious as it was unreasonable, Mr. Barrett 
prohibited his daughters from ever marrying. 
If he had just cause for this decree, it has never 
been clearly explained. 

Elizabeth, always fragile in health and 
shaken in nerves, could not face her father’s 
anger, of which she was in mental and physical 
dread. A clandestine marriage was therefore 

resorted to by the lovers. 

227 



228 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

They were married in the St. Marylebone 
Parish Church. So ideally happy did their 
marriage prove that many years afterwards, 
Robert Browning made a pilgrimage of thanks¬ 
giving to that church. 

It was a romantically suitable union. Robert 
Browning was already acclaimed one of Eng¬ 
land’s great philosopher-poets, and Eliza¬ 
beth Barrett was to rank as one of the most 
delightful of women poets. 

A like ardor and like exquisite sentiments 
thrilled and moved them both. Their brilliant 
minds, in generous emulation, struck sparks 
that fused in a passionate glow of words. 
Winged words of love—“ Oh! lyric love, half 
angel and half bird.” 

We know of the rise and progress of their 
love from the volumes of their marvelous let¬ 
ters published, after both were dead, by their 
son. Rarely has the world seen love-letters 
such as these. They were penned, of course, 
with no thought that any other eyes would ever 
peruse them, save those for which they were 
written. 

In one of them, Robert writes adoringly: 
“ My life is bound up with yours—my own 
first and last love.” 



“ IT’S GRAHAM’S DIKE!” 

SAID BY THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND SINCE 

81 A. D. 

An impregnable barricade! 

Yes—is it not made of sods, cut out of the 
earth and raised above the ground, having in 
front of it the ditch whence the sods were 
taken? Has it not towers, at suitable inter¬ 
vals, where archers can keep watch and ward? 

We see it—this impregnable dike—through 
the mists of time—the soft mists of England. 

It has been built by the Roman Conquerors 
of the southern parts of Britain, here at the 
narrowest place in the Island between the 
Firths of Clyde and Forth. It is intended to 
mark the frontier, but chiefly to serve as a 
means of defense for the inhabitants against 
their fierce northern neighbors. 

These wild people of the northern mountains 
are divided into the Scots and the Piets. 

We see the dike lying across fields where 
skylarks are springing up to sing above the 
daisies. Under wide, spreading trees it goes, 
and by the collections of rough thatched huts 
that are cities. 


229 




230 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

We see a band of Piets come sweeping down 
from their craggy mountain fastnesses. Piets! 
Those mysterious people, of whom history tells 
us so little. 

We see their leader: a fair-haired, blue-eyed 
young giant. Tradition even tells us his name: 
Graham. He dashes ahead of his men, yell¬ 
ing his barbarous war-calls, and waving them to 
the attack. 

The dike is guarded by Britons, under the 
leadership of Romans. But they give way be¬ 
fore the furious onslaught of the Piets. 

The very first man to spring over the dike is 
Graham. 

The mists of time float more thickly over the 
scene. The dike crumbles before our eyes. 

But the shadow of the gallant Piet still falls 
upon its ruins. To this day, its site, faintly 
marked among the daisies that are descendants 
of those long-ago flowers, is called “ Graham’s 
dike.” 


“ THEY THREW ME DOWN THE 

STEPS” 


GEORGE FOX, FOUNDER OF THE SOCIETY 
OF FRIENDS, 1624-1691 

His account of his treatment at York 

A flight of stone steps. 

At the top, on each side, are great, grooved 
pillars, standing grim guard to a cavernous 
doorway. How dark and brooding are the 
shadows within that doorway, and how chill the 
air that sighs through it. It is the Minster at 
York. 

A few people—not many, for it is cold 
weather of frost and snow—are looking on un¬ 
sympathetically while two or three men hustle 
another out of the Cathedral. 

For the stately services have received a 
rude interruption. A dissenter has dared to 
lift his voice in unorthodox criticism. 

It is George Fox—son of a weaver—whose 
piercing eyes gleam under his long hair. 

His own account reads: 

“ I told them that they lived in words, but 
God Almighty looked for fruits amongst 
them.” 


231 



232 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

How dare he! Out with him! 

Yet through what sincere and agonized 
searchings of the spirit has George Fox 
reached this point! 

He believed with all his heart that it was his 
duty to pray and preach publicly, although he 
was not allied with any of the then existing 
religious bodies. 

The intolerance and bigotry of his day 
meted out to him harsh treatment. Again and 
again he was imprisoned for months. For he 
was deliberately defying the laws of his Coun¬ 
try in speaking against established religion. 

This morning he had been “ commanded by 
the Lord ” to speak to Priest and people. With 
the result, as he writes in his journal: “ They 
threw me down the steps.” 

Nothing daunted, George Fox continued to 
preach, and to build better than he knew. 

For it is doubtful if he and his immediate 
followers and converts realized that he was 
founding a new sect, “ The Society of 
Friends,” later called Quakerism. 

Quakerism may be defined as an attitude of 
mind, an atmosphere, rather than a dogmatic 
philosophy. 


“ EMPIRE IS THE BEST WINDING- 

SHEET! ” 

THEODORA, WIFE OF THE BYZANTINE EM¬ 
PEROR, JUSTINIAN I, d. 547 

During the Nika Revolt 

Clear the streets of the rebels! 

But they are in possession of most of this 
our city of Constantinople, and they have 
burned its Cathedral of Saint Sophia. 

The mob is composed mostly of the political 
parties called the “ Greens ” and the “ Blues ” 
which are making common cause against the 
Government of the Emperor Justinian I. 

The rebels have taken for their watchword 
“ Nika,” meaning “ Conquer.” They have 
placed their leader, Hypatius, in the royal seat 
of the Hippodrome, that great center of civic 
life, and have crowned him Emperor, with his 
own wife’s necklace for an impromptu diadem! 

Now, after six days’ rioting, they storm the 
very palace itself. 

The Emperor Justinian is on the point of 
fleeing for his life and abandoning his crown 
and country. Then it is that a woman saves 
the state. 


233 


234 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Theodora Imperatrix! 

The wife of the Emperor comes into his 
council chamber and confronts him and his 
craven councilors. 

Over her soft, flowing dress of white are the 
regal robes of purple. On her dark hair a 
jeweled head-dress or crown—with two long 
ropes of pearls hanging down on each side of 
her small, pale, beautiful face. 

Theodora was the daughter of a bear-feeder 
of the Hippodrome. As a girl she had been a 
famous actress, and if to youth she had added 
its frailties, the glow and glory of her present 
position hides them. 

She speaks. 

“ If you wish, O Emperor, to save your life, 
there are your ships and the sea. But for a 
King death is better than dethronement and 
exile. Empire is the best winding-sheet! ” 

Her bold words, the inspiration of her gal¬ 
lant spirit, prevail. 

Justinian gives the order for a final assault 
upon the mob. It proves successful and the 
rebels are routed by the swords of the Im¬ 
perialists, to fall in thousands. 

Theodora Imperatrix indeed! 


“ UP, GUARDS, AND AT ’EM! ” 

ARTHUR WELLESLEY, DUKE OF WELLING¬ 
TON, 1769-1852 

Command at the Battle of Waterloo 

Again and again the British Infantry had 
withstood the furious and brilliant onslaughts 
of the French. Their Allies, the Dutch and 
Hanoverians, contributed to the unyielding re¬ 
sistance of the opposing walls of men. 

The gallant French Cavalry recoil in dis¬ 
order, in blood, in agony, only to rally under 
the inspiration of Napoleon’s presence. Once 
more and yet once more the French fling them¬ 
selves upon the stolid British squares. 

For three days the fight has raged. It is the 
Battle of Waterloo. 

Thousands and thousands of men from each 
side, dead or struggling with the throes of 
approaching death, strew this awful field of 
Waterloo. Here, at a Belgian Village, eleven 
miles south of Brussels, the armies of the civ¬ 
ilized world grapple in the bitterness of a final 
contest for supremacy. 

Now the Prussians approach to assist the 
Allies. 


235 


236 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Napoleon’s Frenchmen alone, without an 
Ally, give way. The end must be near! 

The Duke of Wellington is England’s chief 
military figure. He is in command of her 
troops and those of her Allies. By reason of 
his inflexible character and indomitable cour¬ 
age, he is called “ the Iron Duke.” 

He sees now an advantageous opening be¬ 
fore his soldiers and cries aloud the thrilling 
command: 

“ Up, Guards, and at ’em! ” 

The British leap forward in a tremendous 
charge. 

Overwhelmed, scattered, tumbling one on 
another, the staggering remnants of Napoleon’s 
once glorious armies gaze upon their oncom¬ 
ing foes—then turn and flee. 

The Battle of Waterloo is won by the Allies! 

The disaster was final for Napoleon, and its 
result was his deposition as Emperor of the 
French and his exile to Saint Helena. 

For miles and miles the pursuit rolls away 
under darkening skies. Loneliness drops its 
pall on many a dying lad, as friends and 
enemies sweep far away. But glory’s victories 
lead often to the grave. 



“ A GREAT PALACE, ENTIRELY 
ROOFED WITH FINE GOLD ” 

MARCO POLO, 1254-1324 
From his famous books of travels 

Let us hear the story as told by the Vene¬ 
tian, Marco Polo, in his book “ Concerning the 
Kingdoms and Marvels of the East,” one of 
the most famous books of travel ever written. 

Marco Polo tells of an Island Kingdom 
called Chipangu, which we know to have been 
Japan. It had “ a great palace entirely roofed 
with fine gold and having moreover floors of 
the same precious metal.” 

Now, Cublay or Ivublai, the Grand Khan of 
the Tartars, hears of this Island and its palace. 
Hears, too, of its marvelous pearls, “ of a rose 
color, big and round.” 

Was it any wonder, that in those agreeable 
days when one man’s land or gold was another’s 
—for the taking—that Kublai should decide to 
seize Chipangu for his very own! 

The Grand Khan accordingly dispatches his 
soldiers. 

But the Tartars, thirty thousand of them, 

237 " 


238 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

are wrecked upon “ a small Island about four 
miles ” from Japan. 

The King of Japan sends his army to dis¬ 
lodge the invading Tartars. His troops land 
on the “ small island ” and proceed to pursue 
the Tartars with a great flourish of martial 
pomp. But they leave no guard with their 
ships, a neglect which Marco Polo laboriously 
explains was “ the act of men very little ac¬ 
quainted with such work! ” 

Indeed it proved the undoing of the Jap¬ 
anese. 

For the Tartars promptly ran round a hill, 
entered the unguarded ships, and sailed away! 

They took the Japanese flags and banners 
with them, landed on Chipangu, and marched 
to the Capital. The garrison, seeing the ban¬ 
ners, “ supposed it was their own host return¬ 
ing and so gave them admittance.” 

Having gained the city by this strategy, the 
Tartars held it for seven months. 

It seems hard that when after various other 
adventures some of the Tartars succeeded in 
finally reaching home, the Grand Khan had 
their commander beheaded. Presumably for 
failure to bring the gold roof back with him! 


“ THROW A QUILT OVER IT ” 

FRIEDRICH II, KING OF PRUSSIA, CALLED 
FREDERICK THE GREAT, 1712-1786 

His last conscious words 

How cold and still the room is! 

I think Master is asleep. 

It is very hard on an old dog to sit rigid so 
many hours on this high stool. I can’t keep 
my legs from trembling. 

Of course I could jump down and crawl 
under the bed. There is a nice dark place 
there, where clumsy humans can’t step on one, 
and where the curtains keep off the draught. 
But then—dogs don’t desert their post! 

Besides, if I left Master, there is no telling 
what these strange men—doctors they call 
them—might do to him. 

I have just heard some one whisper that 
Master has reigned as King of Prussia for 
forty-six years. How many dogs he must have 
had in all that time! But I have had only one 
Master. 

Now they are giving him a drink of fennel- 

water that he always takes at this hour. He 

239 



240 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

likes it. He is grasping the goblet in both 
hands. His dreadful cough keeps on though 
just the same after his drink. A horrid, short 
cough with a queer rattle in his throat, the like 
of which I never heard before. 

I am getting colder and colder. I can feel 
shivers running all over me. 

Now Master opens his eyes. They flash 
with the same old fire which has always made 
us his subjects—humans and dogs alike—jump 
to do his bidding. 

Why—Master is looking right at me! I 
wag my tail so hard that I nearly fall off the 
stool. I hear him say: 

“ Throw a quilt over it.” 

One of the valets, a pleasant man and a great 
friend of mine, covers me carefully with a quilt. 

So good of Master to think of it. So warm 
and comfortable—I think I’ll take a little nap. 

How still the room is! 




“LET NO ONE HURT THE INCA 
UNDER PAIN OF DEATH! ” 

FRANCESCO PIZARRO, 1471-1541 

At the taking of Caxamalca 

In a plaza, or enclosed square, are one hun¬ 
dred and seventy Spanish adventurers under 
their leader, Francesco Pizarro. They have 
come, through incredible difficulties and dan¬ 
gers, to this isolated mountain city of Caxa¬ 
malca in Peru, a stronghold of the Incas, or 
“ People of the Sun.” 

Without the square are slowly gathering 
now the Incas, thousands and thousands of 
them. What if they prove hostile? 

Pizarro addresses his followers. He reminds 
them that they are here for their Holy Faith 
—that the good Priests with them may con¬ 
vert these heathen—for the glory of their Em¬ 
peror Charles V, and also for the enriching of 
themselves from the fabulous wealth of the 
Incas! 

In dignified procession the Incas enter the 
square. 

Their Emperor Atahualpa, or “ The Inca,” 

as he is called, is seated on a throne of pure 

241 


242 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


gold which rests on an open litter, carried by 
eighty of his nobles. They are all dressed in 
deep blue. 

The Inca wears the Peruvian crown of red 
fringe, and round his neck is a collar of em¬ 
eralds of unusual size and brilliance. 

There is a slight parley—and then! 

At a signal from Pizarro, the guns of the 
Spanish blaze forth. 

Thunderbolts and blasts of destruction from 
the gods! 

For the Incas know naught of gunpowder! 
As they reel back in horror, the Spanish charge 
them with their mettlesome horses—animals 
which the Incas have never seen! 

The Inca is protected to the last by his 
devoted nobles. They shield him with their 
own bodies, until the living raft on which he 
is tossed is tom away, piece by piece, by these 
waves of Spanish warriors. 

Pizarro, anxious to rescue him as a hostage, 
cries: “ Let no one hurt the Inca under pain 
of death! ” 

In guarding him, Pizarro receives a wound 
on the hand—the only Spanish wound. 

The Inca made prisoner, “ ruin crushed 
upon the world ” for his faithful people. 



“ WE SHALL BE BOUND TO PRAYSE 
GOD FOR YOUR TENDER 
COMPASSION ” 

REV. PETER BULKELEY, FIRST MINISTER 
OF CONCORD, MASSACHUSETTS, 

1583-1659 

A crying need of the first settlers in the 
New World was for farming land. 

Some of the sturdy pioneers on the coast of 
Massachusetts, weary of the struggle with 
primeval forests, heard joyfully of large, open 
meadows, well watered, lying farther inland. 
This place was called by the Indians Musketa- 
quid, signifying “ grass-grown.” 

In 1635 twelve families made their way 
through the untracked woods to Musketaquid 
—later called Concord. They were led by Rev. 
Peter Bulkeley and Captain Simon Willard. 

Rev. Peter Bulkeley, then fifty-two years of 
age, was a man of “ gentle lineage.” He had 
been a Fellow of St. John’s College, Cam¬ 
bridge, England, and a Bachelor of Divinity. 

He became Concord’s first Minister. 

A man of devoted piety and religious fervor, 
he was of great assistance and comfort to the 
pioneers in their first arduous trials and priva¬ 
tions. 


243 



244 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


The first recorded vote of the town decided 
that a Meeting House should be built. 

Very early in the history of Concord, a cer¬ 
tain Mr. Ambrose Martin asserted his right to 
freedom of speech, which he found an expen¬ 
sive luxury! 

Mr. Martin bitterly criticized the Church 
Covenant, styling it a human invention, and 
declaring that he wondered at God’s patience. 

He was sentenced to pay a fine of ten 
pounds. 

This he refused to do. 

Whereupon his cow was sold, and a levy 
made upon his house and land. After the legal 
demands had been satisfied, Mr. Martin was 
offered what was left. He would not accept 
it and was thereby “ reduced to a necessitous 
condition.” 

Rev. Peter Bulkeley wrote a petition, which 
he and thirteen other church members signed, 
begging the Governor, John Endicott, to remit 
to Mr. Martin the entire fine. In which case 
the document concludes: “We shall be bound 
to prayse God for your tender compassion to¬ 
wards this our poore brother.” 

But the petition failed. 


“ DESTROY THE MINE BY BLOW¬ 
ING IT IN ” 

ORDERS GIVEN LIEUTENANT HARLEY 
At the defense of Chitral in British India, 1895 

Two months of it—eating our killed and 
salted ponies! 

Now to-night, another horror is added—a 
tap—tap—tapping under the walls of the gun 
tower. The enemy is digging under it to place 
a mine! 

Something must be done, and done at once! 

A sortie! 

But we are only half a dozen British Officers 
defending Chitral against the Native Indians, 
with not a single British soldier by us. Only 
the Native troops that are on the side of the 
British. They are loyal to us—probably. 

Young Lieutenant H. K. Harley with a 
band of Native troops, Sikhs and Kashmir In¬ 
fantry, is ordered “ to take one hundred and 
ten pounds of powder, and to destroy the mine 
by blowing it in,” or in any other way he thinks 
he can best accomplish it! 

Now for it, lads! Come on—Lieutenant 

Harley is in the lead! 

245 





246 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

A sortie against the dusky enemy—who, 
amazed by our sudden onslaught, give way 
only to rally again and pour a deadly fire upon 
our small force. 

While our men hold them off, Lieutenant 
Harley seeks for the main shaft of the mine. 

A messenger arrives from our fort to warn 
Lieutenant Harley that the enemy is gather¬ 
ing round him—to cut him off! 

Lieutenant Harley goes calmly on with his 
work. 

Another messenger arrives. 

Lieutenant Harley is at liberty to use his 
own judgment—but he is warned that the 
enemy is closing in—fast! 

Lieutenant Harley continues his task. He 
has found the mouth of the mine! 

The crowded moments pass. 

A third frantic messenger arrives! 

Lieutenant Harley himself explodes the 
mine. Then he races for our fort—with what 
are left of his brave men. 

It is pleasant to know that the gallant young 
Lieutenant received the Decoration of the Dis¬ 
tinguished Service Order—while he and every 
soldier received six months’ extra pay as re¬ 
ward for “ loyal and devoted ” service. 


“ I AM THE BIG BUCK OF THE 

LICK! ” 

ABRAHAM LINCOLN, 1809-1865 
When a mere youth 

A “ lick ” is a place in the wild lands where 
there is an outcropping of salt. 

It may be in a field of daisies and clover. 
Or in a clearing, round the edges of which 
low-growing bushes drape the trunks of tall 
trees. Or deep in woods where shadowed 
brooks tinkle over mossy boulders. 

In such spots, wild animals come to “ lick ” 
the good salt taste. 

Here the bucks of the herd meet and often¬ 
times fight, half in play, half in earnest, after 
the manner of male creatures. 

Who is it that utters these boastful words: 
“ I am the big buck of the lick! ” 

It is Abraham Lincoln. 

What? The Chief Magistrate of a great 
country? That dignified and saddened man 
who carried the troubles of a nation on his 
shoulders, and her griefs in his noble heart? 

Yes. But it was when Abraham Lincoln 
was a mere youth. 


247 


248 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

He was living in a Western Settlement— 
Gentryville, Indiana. His relatives and asso¬ 
ciates were all people of the humblest circum¬ 
stances. The Lincolns themselves lived in a 
cabin of hewed logs. Abe—as the future Presi¬ 
dent was called—slept in the loft, to which he 
climbed by means of pegs driven in the wall. 

Well—one day a fight took place between 
a step-brother of Abe’s and another lad named 
Grigsby. 

Abe was renowned for his great physical 
strength, of which fact he was immensely 
proud. Seeing now that his step-brother was 
worsted, Abe burst through the excited crowd 
encircling the two youths, caught Grigsby, and 
“ threw him off some feet away.” 

Then, much pleased with his own prowess, 
he cried exultingly: “ I am the big buck of 
the lick! ” 

All his life Abraham Lincoln was fond of 
puns and jokes and witty stories. It is per¬ 
missible to wonder if he here intended a pun 
on the word “ lick.” 


“ WALES, RING THE BELL ” 

GEORGE BRYAN BRUMMELL, CALLED BEAU 
BRUMMELL, 1778-1840 

To the Pkince of Wales 

We, fops and dandies—elegant, languid, 
punctiliously dressed—lounge in the room of 
our leader, Beau Brummell. He is the most 
elegant, the most beautifully dressed, but not 
by any means the merest fop of us all. 

From the time he was a lad of sixteen at 
Eton, Beau Brummell has been the intimate 
friend of His Royal Highness, the Prince of 
Wales, afterwards to be King George IV of 
England. 

The Prince of Wales has condescended to 
pay Beau Brummell a call this morning. Just 
watch them! 

His Highness is shaking with laughter at 
some sally of the Beau’s which is really witty. 
Oh, yes! The man has brains. 

Now His Highness is taking snuff from 
Beau BrummeH’s jeweled snuff box with a 
gesture as to an equal. Beau Brummell crosses 

his legs in their tight trousers with the straps 

249 




250 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

under the shoes. He leans back and yawns 
elaborately. Yes—yawns in the Prince’s face! 

Of course we are all his dear friends, but we 
watch a trifle eagerly to see if the Prince of 
Wales really likes this familiarity. 

Apparently he does. He is smiling affec¬ 
tionately. 

Perhaps Beau Brummell sees our covert 
watching. He grows more and more auda¬ 
cious. 

Presently he decides that the time has come 
for his morning drive. His carriage must be 
summoned. 

He glances lazily at the long silken bell-rope 
which dangles just out of his reach, unless he 
gets up. He settles himself more comfortably 
in his chair, and drawls: 

“ Wales, ring the bell.” 

A gasp flutters through the room! 

Then the Prince laughs good-naturedly, and 
rising, pulls the bell-rope. 

The tension relaxes, and we all laugh, too. 

But some of us whisper that Beau Brummell 
has gone too far at last. There was a flash for 
a second in the Prince’s eyes which seemed to 
paint the Favorite’s future with a lurid glare. 


“ IT IS THE REFLECTION OF SUN¬ 
LIGHT ON AN UPLIFTED 
SHIELD!” 

SAID BY GREEK SOLDIERS 
Just after the Battle of Marathon, 490 b. c. 

A Persian army had been sent by King 
Darius against the Greeks. It numbered one 
hundred and twenty thousand men, gathered 
from forty-six different nations. 

It had landed on the Plain of Marathon, 
which is separated by a range of hills from the 
Athenian plain. 

And the Persians had been beaten—beaten 
by only ten thousand Greeks from Athens! 

The slight advantage of higher ground, 
which lent an impetus to their risk, aided the 
Greeks. But vastly more important was the 
fact that their small force was united by the 
verifying energy thrilling in men who defend 
their homes against an invader. 

Yes—the Athenians had won! They had 
driven the Persians back—back into the sea 
marshes—back into the ships. 

Now, sunset has come. 

The Greeks draw together to breathe—to 

count their living—to think of their dead. 

251 


252 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Mists float in rose-colored waves across the 
Plain of Marathon and to the foot of the bor¬ 
dering hills. The fogs are reaching up against 
the steep sides of Mount Pentelicus, whose 
peak is touched by the clear rays of the setting 
sun. 

Suddenly, from the summit of Pentelicus 
there flashes a brilliant, dazzling light. It is 
seen only for a second—and then it is gone. 

Soldier eyes recognize it! A cry goes up: 
“ It is the reflection of sunlight on an uplifted 
shield! ” 

There are traitors in Athens who are friends 
of the Persians. This shield is lifted on the 
summit of Pentelicus to invite the Persians to 
sail round to the south, land on the coast near 
Athens, then march upon the city and take it 
by surprise. 

The Persians see the signal. They set sail 
in all haste. 

The interpretation of the Greeks is also cor¬ 
rect. They slip back through the hills to 
Athens—again to meet the Persians and beat 
them back. 

Wonderful to relate, the traitor’s uplifted 
shield was unwittingly a guard to his country. 


“ ALL IS LOST SAVE HONOR ” 

KING FRANCIS I OF FRANCE, 1494-1547 

In a letter to his mother after the Battle of 

Pavia 

The battle is over—and lost! 

Fair feats of prowess have been performed 
during its dreadful stress and strain. The 
French King, Francis I, young, ardent, gal¬ 
lant, has himself led in every deed of chivalrous 
endeavor. 

But oh! this Italian Campaign. This dis¬ 
astrous defeat of Pavia on the fields of Lom¬ 
bardy ! 

King Francis reviews in bitterness of spirit 
and anguish of bodily weariness the dreadful 
day. He himself is for the time being a pris¬ 
oner. 

It is to his mother that his thoughts turn. 
She was the beautiful Louise of Savoy. Be¬ 
tween mother and son existed the passionate 
tenderness of that relationship. 

Queen Louise had read with her son from 
his earliest infancy, and the library of their 
Chateau at Amboise was well-stocked with 

romances of the Knights of the Round Table. 

253 


254 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


There were books fashioned by the newly in¬ 
troduced art of printing. There were manu¬ 
scripts lovingly traced by hand, and decorated 
with gold laid on in leaf and burnished. Their 
pages were surrounded by wreaths of conven¬ 
tionalized flowers and figures, whose brilliant 
colors shed a lustre on the tales of selfless de¬ 
votion. 

These, mother and son had studied together 
until the lad’s generous imagination had been 
fired, and his heart inspired to emulate the 
heroic deeds of chivalry. 

He had gone forth so gayly on this cam¬ 
paign and to this particular battle. Personally, 
he seemed to be equipped with every attribute 
of a knightly King. Of noble bearing, well 
trained in all sturdy and athletic exercises, his 
courteous and affable behavior to all men had 
bound his soldiers to him. 

Y r et he and they had failed! All is lost! 

But—had they failed? Is everything lost? 

His mother’s noblest teachings come back to 
him with infinite balm and consolation. No— 
the best has been saved. 

Francis seizes pen and writes: 

“ All is lost save honor.” 


“BY AN AXE WIELDED BY THE 
NOBLEST HAND IN RUSSIA ” 

SAID OF PETER I, EMPEROR OF RUSSIA, 
CALLED “ THE GREAT,” 1672-1725 

A feast? Hush—a shambles! 

We, the Boyars or Nobles of Russia, thought 
ourselves asked here to the palace of our Em¬ 
peror, Peter the Great, to attend a royal ban¬ 
quet. Hush! 

Here are all the delicious viands, the gor¬ 
geous furnishings, for an Emperor’s table. By 
the Merciful God above us—hush! Blood— 
murder—wine- 

We must stifle our horror. We must raise 
our glasses on high in acclaim. Lights gleam 
on costly flagons of crystal and dishes of 
beaten gold. If we do not dissemble our loath¬ 
ing and terror at the awful deeds, we may, any 
or all of us, fall under Peter’s implacable rage. 

The man is mad with blood-lust; drink-lust. 
His body craves liquor as his soul craves blood. 

The Strieletsui, or Archers, of the Em¬ 
peror’s body-guard, have rebelled against him. 

Oh! it is the oft-repeated story of the con¬ 
flict between the old thought and the new. 

255 



256 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

The Archers are a sort of hereditary militia. 
Along with their honors and responsibilities 
they acquire a load of traditional customs. 
The Archers are so jealous of these customs 
that they defend them with their lives. 

Hence, when Peter I introduced all the 
strange new laws and manners learned from 
foreign countries, as for instance, shaving the 
beard; smoking tobacco; wearing modern 
clothes, the Archers revolted. Also the Em¬ 
peror changed the Calendar which made the 
church festivals fall differently. 

Hush! 

Another head falls- 

For Peter is having his Archers beheaded— 
over a hundred of them—here by our festal 
board. They are dragged in, poor creatures, 
by soldiers. 

N ow—culminating f rightfulness—Peter 

takes himself the place of the executioner. 

“ Five rebel heads are sent into the dust by 
an axe wielded by the noblest hand in Russia.” 

Still we must keep our places at this his 
table. 

Ho! More wine to choke our abhorrence, 
to drown our fears. 

Hail to the Emperor! Hail! 




Peter the Great, Beheading the Archers 
In the Presence of His Nobles. 












“ SHE TAUGHT THE PEOPLE THE 
ART OF REARING SILKWORMS ” 

SAID OF THE WIFE OF WHANG TI, EM¬ 
PEROR OF CHINA, ABOUT 2700 b. c. 

Fair the garden—fair the lady. 

Here the paths are close in shadow, bronze 
the shadows, still and balmy. Here the paths 
are gay with sunlight and the flowers flaunt 
their fragrance for the bees and butterflies. 

Placid lie the pools and streamlets with 
curved bridges arching high above their flat, 
slow-moving waters. On the pools lie lotus 
blossoms, spread in beauty, expectant of the 
sunbeam's kiss. On the pools are spread re¬ 
flections of their soft, expectant beauty. 

Down the steps, there comes the Empress, 
and the swaying of her jewels catches and 
tosses sparkling sunbeams. Now her noble 
maidens watch and mark her slightest gesture. 

Why her frowning? Why her sighs? 

See, my maidens, low she murmurs, stiff my 

gown and dull of texture- Will he like it? 

Oh! my master—my dear love—my Emperor! 

Then the maidens urge in answer her own 
royal loveliness. 


257 



258 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Suddenly the Empress points them to a tree 
of luscious fruit. White and long and rich, the 
fruit. 

“Ah!” she cries with sudden vision; “see, 
the shiny worms are feeding on this tree within 
my garden! ” The white mulberry tree of 
sacred lore. Then they spin in wondrous 
fashion, which the gods alone have taught them, 
a fibre fine and thin and delicate. 

Silkworms? Silk? 

Aye, so it was discovered in that garden long 

ago. Thus the lustrous fabric’s story so began 

in far Cathav. 

%/ 

Did the Empress don her garment made of 
silk that summer fair? 

Yes—we see her robed in richness. 

Thick and flowing is the texture; bright and 
many are the colors that contrast in harmony. 
Sweet her lips and slow her smile, as she waits 
in silken robe, by the waters of her garden. 

Then the Emperor, Whang Ti, marches 
down the paths of flowers—sees her waiting in 
her robe of silk. 

“ My only love! ” he cries. 


“ A LIKE FATE WILL BEFALL ALL 
THOSE WHO REFUSE TO SACRI¬ 
FICE TO THE GODS ” 

INGOLF, A COLONIZER OF ICELAND 

About 875 

Two noblemen of Norway, Ingolf and Leif, 
foster-brothers and devoted friends, wished to 
go adventuring to Iceland, because of the call 
of an unknown land. 

Leif was too poor to fit out a ship. So he 
made a Viking expedition—in the casual man¬ 
ner of those days—and brought back various 
furnishings and ten slaves from Ireland. Also 
a steel sword, valued trophy of his prowess— 
from which he got the name Hjor-leif —hjor 
meaning a sword blade. 

It was the custom to sacrifice to the gods be¬ 
fore setting out on a journey. Ingolf per¬ 
formed this proper deed. But Hjor-leif re¬ 
fused. One old chronicler suggests that he had 
learned Christianity on his marauding expedi¬ 
tion! Be that as it may, Hjor-leif simply 
would not sacrifice—and that was flat! 

Well, then, the ships set out. Hjor-leif took 

with him his beautiful wife, Helga. The two 

259 




260 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

noblemen sailed together until they sighted the 
shores of Iceland, when they parted. 

Everything prospered with the pious Ingolf. 

Whereas the wicked Hjor-leif had nothing 
but trouble. First his oxen died—all but one. 
So he harnessed his ten slaves to the plow. 
This naturally made the slaves angry, and they 
conspired against him. 

They killed—and incidentally ate—the one 
remaining ox. Then they told Hjor-leif that 
a bear had eaten the ox, and when he started 
out to hunt the bear, they laid in wait for the 
unfortunate man and murdered him! 

So that was the end of Hjor-leif. 

In the spring, Ingolf came down the coast 
to visit his friend—and discovered his corpse. 

Sententiously, Ingolf remarked: 

“ A like fate will befall all those who refuse 
to sacrifice to the gods.” 

It is also on record that Ingolf “ took care 
of ”—which, being interpreted, means appro¬ 
priated —all Hjor-leif’s belongings. 

We wonder what became of the beautiful 
Helga—poor woman! 





“ EXACTLY TWO YEARS YOUNGER 
THAN YOUR MAJESTY’S 
HAPPY REIGN!” 

f 

FRANCIS BACON, BARON VERULAM, 

1561-1625 

Said as a child to Queen Elizabeth 

Yes, the lad is very delicate and sickly. 

He cannot join in the sports and rough 
games of his older brothers. 

He shows great promise of mentality, how¬ 
ever, and quickness of parts. Remember how, 
when he was hardly more than a baby, he dis¬ 
covered a singular echo in St. James’ Fields, 
and how he stole away from his little play¬ 
mates to try to investigate it. Also how in¬ 
terested he is now—precocious youngster—in 
mesmerism and legerdemain, now considered 
kindred subjects, and how he is working on 
most ingenious speculations concerning them. 

Oh, that boy will go far! He must be edu¬ 
cated carefully here at home, and he will be 
ready for the University of Cambridge by the 
time he is twelve. 

We can give him also every advantage which 

an introduction into the highest society may 

261 




262 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

afford. Th}s will cultivate his already pro¬ 
nounced good manners and charming deport¬ 
ment. 

Come, my boy, you shall go to Court to-day, 
with your father, Sir Nicholas Bacon, Lord 
Keeper of the Great Seal of England to Queen 
Elizabeth. Her Majesty has already gra¬ 
ciously deigned to notice you, on several oc¬ 
casions, and calls you her “ little Lord 
Keeper.” This may afford you chances at all 
sorts of good things later on—for it is by the 
smiles of the Virgin Queen that her subjects 
advance. 

So the young Francis Bacon goes to Court. 

On his return home, his tender and loving 
mother greets him. And what did Mamma’s 
darling do at Court? 

Francis replies that he saw Queen Elizabeth 
—“ and she stopped, Mamma, and patted my 
head, and asked me how old I was.” 

“ What did you say, my son? ” 

“ I said,” answers the embryo courtier 
gently, “ I am exactly two years younger than 
Your Majesty’s happy reign! ” 

The diplomat begins his eventful career! 



“WE DO NOT FORBID YOU TO 
PREACH, AND GAIN AS MANY AS 
YOU CAN TO YOUR RELIGION ” 

ETHELBERT, KING OF KENT, 552-616 
To Saint Augustine 

We will hear these men who are come from 
far into our Kingdom. They declare that they 
bring us a joyful message and that, if we take 
advantage of it, we shall thereby gain a King¬ 
dom without an end. 

We will sit here in the open air surrounded 
by our Court under the wide-spreading oaks 
of this secret grove that is blessed by the rites 
of our Druids or Priests. For if these men 
practise magical arts, they might according to 
our ancient belief impose upon us within four 
walls! 

Our fair Queen Bertha shall sit by our side. 
She is of the same new religion as these trav¬ 
elers—a Christian—and her gentle voice pleads 
for their kind reception. 

These forty men have been sent by Pope 
Gregory I to convert us. They are led by one 

of noble presence, named Augustine. 

263 



264 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

What words are these that come from his 
lips? 

Behind us loom shades of the deep, bosky 
woods of that land which shall be England. In 
them lurk wild beasts and many a terror of 
witch and valkyrie and black magic. 

The men of Kent crowd about good King 
Ethelbert—and his little page presses close to 
his knee. Their spears hang useless in their 
hands as they listen, and the minstrels lean 
mute against their mute harps. 

Augustine tells, with sweet, grave words, of 
the peace of the White Christ; of love towards 
our brethren; of the beauty of righteousness. 
Strange doctrines these, to our Pagan ears! 

Can they be true? Is it really not necessary 
for us to be continually fighting and killing 
and ravening? Can we find safety from de¬ 
mons and evil and death? 

Then King Ethelbert speaks: 

“ We do not forbid you to preach, and gain 
as many as you can to your religion.” 


“ WE WILL DIE FOR OUR KING— 
MARIA THERESA! ” 

SAID BY THE NOBLEMEN OF THE HUN¬ 
GARIAN DIET TO MARIA THERESA, 

1717-1780 

An excited throng of men fill the great Hall 
at Pressburg. Their dark faces glow with 
eagerness and their sinewy hands grasp the 
hilts of their jeweled swords, ready for any 
fate. 

What fate they are to face is the momentous 
question. Who shall be their Ruler? To 
whom shall they swear allegiance? 

As the crowd move back and forth with 
quick gesticulations, the lights gleam on the 
diamonds and pearls which encrust gorgeous 
uniforms. Representatives from the half- 
savage tribes beyond the Danube add to the 
picturesqueness of their barbaric costumes. 

It is the unsettled year of 1741. Half a 
dozen Kings and Dukes are trying to arrange 
among themselves as to who shall govern Hun¬ 
gary, while the fiery Hungarians themselves 
will have none of them. 

Suddenly a curtain is drawn. All eyes turn 
to the opening. 


265 


266 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

There stands a woman in her earliest 
twenties; beautiful, with a frank and noble 
beauty. In her arms she bears her infant son. 

It is Maria Theresa, wife of Francis, Duke 
of Tuscany. Through her father, the Em¬ 
peror Charles VI, she is laying claim to the 
patrimonial estates of the Hapsburgs—among 
them the Kingdom of Hungary. 

She is clad in the brilliant costume of their 
own Hungary; its crown is on her head; and 
by her side she has girt—no womanly orna¬ 
ment—the kingly sabre! Holding her baby 
aloft, she calls upon all present in the name of 
her “ own true knights,” begging them to con¬ 
quer for her her inheritance. 

Wild is the enthusiasm! The whole as¬ 
semblage thrills to the urge of heroism. No 
woman this—but a Ruler. Every weapon 
shakes on high, while the shouts ring out: 

“ We will die for our king—Maria Theresa! ” 

Their impetuous zeal sweeps all before them. 

The splendid troops of Hungarian cavalry, 
the ferocious hordes of their mountain tribes, 
rise tempestuously. 

Three years later the husband of Maria 
Theresa is made Emperor. She thus becomes 
the “ Empress-Queen.” 



“ I AM JOYFUL AT MY GOOD 
FORTUNE” 

FRANCESCO PETRARCA, CALLED 
PETRARCH, 1304-1370 

A procession winds up the Capitoline Hill. 
The hot, golden air of Rome surges over the 
crowding, enthusiastic attendants and specta¬ 
tors, filling the streets with flashing color. 

First march twelve beautiful youths, richly 
dressed in scarlet. Their young faces are grave 
with pride. 

Then come six nobles clad in vivid green, 
each stately head crowned with flowers. They 
are followed by the chief functionaries of the 
city. 

In the midst of this distinguished escort 
walks Francesco Petrarca, called Petrarch, 
wearing a graceful purple robe given him by a 
King. He has the poise of early manhood, 
with a high-bred intellectual face and a firm 
but “ ever smiling ” mouth. 

For years Petrarch has suffered the deep 
unhappiness of an enduring but unfulfilled 
passion. To this love and suffering and the 

laborious days which he had led—spending 

267 



268 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


himself in the pursuit of learning—we owe his 
poems. Poems by which their author has 
gained his present high guerdon. 

The procession halts, and a herald summons 
Petrarch to speak. Petrarch gives an elaborate 
discourse on the “ difficulties, delights, and re¬ 
wards of poetry.” 

Then he kneels down, and a senator places 
upon his head the laurel “ Crown of Song,” a 
wreath of pointed laurel leaves. 

Previous to this day, this ancient custom 
has not been enacted for twelve centuries. The 
“ Crown of Song ” is bestowed upon a poet as 
a public recognition of the recipient’s mastery 
in the art of poetry. 

This occasion marks an awakening of gen¬ 
eral interest in learning. It is largely owing 
to the efforts and effects of Petrarch’s culture 
that the Renaissance—which was the revival 
of classical learning and art—became a living 
force. 

Petrarch modestly writes to a friend of this 
honor: 

“ I am joyful at my good fortune.” 

The ceremony over, Petrarch goes to Saint 
Peter’s and hangs his laurel crown among the 
votive offerings. 



“ THEY TORE OUT HIS HAIR, AND 
ALSO HIS EAR-RINGS WITH 
PIECES OF FLESH ” 

SAID OF THE MURDER OF COUNT VON 
FERSEN, SWEDISH STATESMAN, 

1755-1810 

One man whispers that the heir to the throne 
of Sweden is dead. 

Another adds angrily that he has been poi¬ 
soned. 

A third cries, “ Who so apt to know about 
the poisoning as Count Hans Axel von Fer- 
sen? ” Fersen is a friend of the political party 
opposed to the dead Prince. 

Thus a wicked scandal grows! 

The dead heir is to have a public funeral 
here in the city of Stockholm, and Count von 
Fersen, as Grand Marshal, must lead the fu¬ 
neral procession. 

“ Handsome Fersen ” has been accustomed 
to high positions. Familiar with court life, he 
was as renowned for his chivalry as for his 
beauty. He was a friend of the unfortunate 
Queen of France, Marie Antoinette. 

Fersen calmly intends now to fulfil his of- 

269 


270 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


ficial duties, in spite of the imprecations and 
threats of the mob. He dresses in full cere¬ 
monial regalia, which well becomes his high¬ 
bred face, with its “ straight nose, beautifully 
curved lips, and look of great sweetness-” 

In his gilded coach, drawn by six white 
horses, he sets out. 

Tragically, this splendid but quite appro¬ 
priate state, further infuriates the mob. It is 
interpreted as derision, on Fersen’s part, of 
the people’s mourning for the dead Prince. 

The mob with dreadful howls attack his 
coach. They drag him to the ground. 

Meanwhile, troops of the established govern¬ 
ment of King Charles XIII of Sweden have 
been drawn up under arms in the streets. Why 
do they not interfere? It can only be sus¬ 
pected that the responsibility rests “ higher 
up! ” 

Fersen is trampled under the feet of the 
crazy mob—beaten—kicked—“ they tore out 
his hair, and also his ear-rings with pieces of 
the flesh.” 

Their bloodthirsty fury was not slacked by 
his agonized death—they stripped the corpse; 
mutilated it; and carried the fragments about 
the city. 





“ THIS IS A NEW AND STRONG TIE 
I SHALL HAVE TO BREAK ” 

SIDDHARTHA GAUTAMA, CALLED 
BUDDHA, ABOUT 568-488 b. c. 

On renouncing the world 

A young Rajput nobleman is spending the 
afternoon in his pleasure grounds by the river¬ 
side. Every cultivated beauty of flower and 
foliage and singing bird is here. The delights 
of sparkling water add their refreshments with 
deep swimming-pools. 

But the young prince paces the velvet sward 
in misery of doubt and perplexity. 

It is Siddhartha Gautama. 

Disgusted with the luxury and idleness of 
his life, Gautama seeks with agony to find 
peace and truth. What is the Abstract Right? 
Does it lie in self-renunciation? 

A messenger speeds down the flowering ter¬ 
races. A son has been born to the illustrious 
Gautama. 

To the amazement and horror of his attend¬ 
ants, Gautama says calmly: 

“ This is a new and strong tie I shall have 
to break.” 


271 


272 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Gautama returns to his palace, and pauses 
at the door of his wife’s chamber. The couch 
is heaped about with blossoms, and she nestles 
among them, in her gorgeous robes, like an ex¬ 
quisite butterfly. Her hand rests upon the 
head of their child. 

Gautama dares not enter for kisses of fare¬ 
well lest they weaken his newly formed resolu¬ 
tion to seek the life of the spirit only. 

He turns away—casts from him his pearl 
collar and all his ornaments and goes forth into 
the night. 

Many are the years that pass. 

Many are the paths which Gautama fol¬ 
lows: of asceticism; of meditation; of study; 
of prayer. Paths that are bordered by the 
worn-out sandals of pilgrims who have climbed 
these heights before him. 

Gautama gains a saint-like character. He 
becomes “ Buddha,” “ The Enlightened One.” 
He founds a great religion of “ sweet serenity,” 
which to this day is the faith of millions. 

By “ right aspirations ” through “ right con¬ 
duct,” Buddha reaches “ right rapture.” High, 
he sees broadly; and attains the ultimate vision 
of love and pity to all mankind. 

Buddha ends where Christ begins. 


“ THAT I MIGHT BE A CRITICAL 

EYE-WITNESS ” 

COTTON MATHER, CONGREGATIONAL 
CLERGYMAN OF BOSTON, 1663-1728 

In his diary concerning witchcraft cases 

Oh! The child is bewitched! 

Save us and help us—listen to her screams, 
as she vows she is being pricked with pins and 
tormented into fits! 

She is Martha Goodwin, aged thirteen. On 
her testimony, combined with that of the 
younger children of her family, a judgment 
has just been enacted. A laundress, named 
Glover, has been hanged. For Martha de¬ 
clares her to be a witch. 

What better witness do we need? 

Certainly we seek for none in this late Seven¬ 
teenth Century in New England. The word 
of any hysterical, panic-ridden person seems 
to be sufficient to convict a neighbor of witch¬ 
craft. 

Yes—yes—it must be so! For how are we 
to rid ourselves of the ghastly spectre which is 
casting its shadow over us, unless we kill all 
who are suspected? 


273 



274 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

What? You say that the Reverend Cotton 
Mather has taken Martha into his own home? 
“ Partly,” he writes, “ out of compassion to her 
parents, but chiefly that I might be a critical 
eye-witness of things.” 

This brilliant young clergyman, pastor at 
twenty-five of the largest congregation in New 
England, believes implicitly in diabolical pos¬ 
session. He both hates and fears it. 

To Cotton Mather, prayer is of limitless ef¬ 
ficacy. In one year he has kept “ sixty fasts 
and twenty vigils.” How many of us do the 
like, my masters? By prayer and the mystical 
visions which it brings to him, he combats 
witchcraft. 

But fortunately among Cotton Mather’s 
comprehensive studies is also that of medicine. 
He applies the methods of its sane science to 
poor little Martha. Her delusions and distem¬ 
per give way to his kind patience and common 
sense. 

Although Cotton Mather has been one of the 
foremost defenders of belief in witchcraft, it 
is largely owing to his wisdom and discretion 
that its reign of savage terror is broken. 


“ ON ACCOUNT OF HIS SINGULAR 

ADVENTURE” 

SAID OF ALEXANDER SELKIRK, 1676-1721 

The real Robinson Crusoe! 

At his own request, Alexander Selkirk, aged 
twenty-eight, a Scotch sailing-master on a 
privateering expedition was put ashore on the 
desert island of Juan Fernandez, with a few 
ordinary necessaries. He had long wished to 
try such an adventure, and at present he was 
at odds with his captain. 

No sooner, however, had his comrades 
started to leave him, than a sudden terrible 
revulsion of feeling rushed over Selkirk. He 
implored and begged to be readmitted into the 
ship. He was brutally refused, on the ground 
that he had committed mutiny in leaving his 
ship. Surely no men, save the hardened mem¬ 
bers of a privateer’s crew, could have so aban¬ 
doned a fellow-creature. 

At first it could not have seemed true to 
Selkirk! He must have gone down to the 
furthest edge of rocks and sat watching. The 
ship was still close to land, her sails flapping 

loose. A person could have walked, it ap- 

275 


276 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

peared, across the intervening space of blue 
water that sparkled so pleasantly in the sun. 

For a breath the ship hung almost motion¬ 
less and Selkirk could hear the voices of his 
comrades—so close—so homelike! Then the 
sails fill in the offshore breeze, the ship swings 
rapidly about. She is gone! 

The expedients to which Selkirk was put to 
maintain life were practically those described 
by Defoe in “ Robinson Crusoe.” 

After four years and four months, Selkirk 
was rescued by another English privateer. 

Selkirk related to its captain, Woodes 
Rogers, that during the long agony of his aw¬ 
ful solitude he had been supported by his re¬ 
ligious faith. Also that, having his books with 
him, he had “ improved himself much in navi¬ 
gation.” 

Captain Rogers, admiring Selkirk’s heroic 
attributes, and also “ on account of his singular 
adventure,” made him his mate. 

Later he gave Selkirk command of one of 
his prizes, taken in their privateering trip. 


“UP, YE BOAR’S BROOD! ” 

WILLIAM DE LA MARCK, CALLED THE 
WILD BOAR OF ^RDENNES 

At the murder of Louis de Bourbon, 1484* 

A man —who has earned for himself a ter¬ 
rible nickname—well-deserved! For no wild 
boar who roams the beautiful forest of Ar¬ 
dennes in the Low Countries is more cruel or 
ferocious than William De La Marck. 

See him! Over his head and shoulders hangs 
the skin of a huge wild boar, with hoofs and 
tusks of solid silver. Habits of violence and 
evil practices have given De La March’s face 
a hideous if fanciful likeness to the forest mon¬ 
ster, and this is heightened by his extraordinary 
projecting side teeth. 

Behind him throng his rough soldiers in his 
uniform of scarlet, with a boar’s head on the 
left sleeve. They resemble bandits in lawless¬ 
ness and barbarity. 

Before him stands his prisoner, Prince Louis 
de Bourbon, Bishop of Liege. 

If Louis de Bourbon has been in his younger 
years somewhat given over to vanity and love 

of display, he carries himself nobly now. 

277 



278 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

The members of his magnificent household 
and personal troops have done their best to 
save him. But his subjects of the city of 
Liege, angry at certain taxes, have joined their 
forces to those of De La Marck. 

The Wild Boar of Ardennes grinds his 
tusk-like teeth till the foam flies from his lips. 

What terms will his prisoner offer as ran¬ 
som for his life? 

Louis de Bourbon, Bishop of Liege, draws 
himself up with the resignation of a Christian 
Ecclesiastic and the dignity of a great Prince. 
He scorns to placate his wicked captor by the 
slightest concession of his rights. He replies 
calmly, with the well-bred fortitude of the race 
from which he sprang: 

If De La Marck will make restitution to all 
those whom he has injured in a long and sin¬ 
ful life; if he will go barefooted on a peni¬ 
tential pilgrimage to Rome—then the Bishop 
of Liege will pray for him! 

These are his only terms! 

Maddened, De La Marck thunders: 

“ Up, ye boar’s brood! ” 

The next instant the brave Bishop falls dead. 


“ THERE APPEARED TO MY EYES 
THE GLORIOUS LADY OF 
MY MIND ” 

DANTE ALIGHIERI, 1265-1321 
On seeing Beatrice Portinari 

A quiet street in Medieval Florence. 

Slender spires reach up into the bright Tus¬ 
can sunshine, in whose luminous clearness each 
carven curve shows plainly. Pigeons circle and 
swoop about the terraced roofs. 

A girl, in the innocent freshness of extreme 
youth, is coming down the street with her 
young companions. We are told that “ her 
dress was of crimson color.” 

Near by a bridge spans the blue Arno under 
the blue skies of Italy; and against its para¬ 
pets leans a youth. 

He sees the approaching maiden. His heart 
begins to tremble so that every least pulse of 
his body shakes with rapture. What is this 
serene and lovely light which plays across her 
brow? Whence comes this noble and gentle 
air which animates her whole being? 

Slowly she comes abreast of him—slowly she 

279 


280 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

passes with level-fronted eyelids—slowly she 
vanishes. 

The lad is Dante Alighieri, later to be one 
of the world’s great poets. 

In describing this joyful vision of his youth, 
he can only exclaim: 

“ There appeared to my eyes the glorious 
lady of my mind, who was by many called 
Beatrice.” 

Dante was to see Beatrice only two or three 
times, and at such chance meetings as this, 
while she—hardly knew of his existence! 

But he endued her, by the power of his 
poetic imagination, with every attribute of ex¬ 
cellence. 

A love which is held remote from the be¬ 
loved object, which never even sighs a word 
of passion, may be all the stronger. It surely 
must be purified from earthly dross. The far¬ 
away Princess is adored with reverential love 
which attains an ethereal quality of bliss. 

For years Dante was guided by his mortal 
love for Beatrice. When at the age of twenty- 
one she died, he was thereafter through all his 
life influenced by her immortal spirit which 
“ revealed to him the mysteries of Paradise.” 




Meeting of Beatrice and Dante. 





“LICTORS, DO YOUR DUTY!” 

JUNIUS BRUTUS, ROMAN CONSUL, ABOUT 

500 b. c. 

At a state trial 

A solemn scene in Ancient Rome. 

On the judgment-seat sits Junius Brutus. 
He is chief of the two Consuls, lately elected 
by the people of Rome to govern them. 

Below and about him are his officers in 
silent, stately array. It is evident that a trial 
is about to take place. 

Yes—here come the prisoners. They are 
two men, in the strength and comeliness of 
youth. They are closely guarded by the Lie- 
tors, or Officers of Justice. The Lictors carry 
each a bundle of rods, called fasces, with an 
axe in the middle, as a mark of their office. 

The youths are brought to the foot of the 
judgment-seat, and Junius Brutus gazes 
sternly down at them. For they are accused 
of a crime which was very terrible in the 
thoughts of a Roman. They had conspired 
against the established government of their 
country. 

These two young men had been contriving 

281 


282 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

plots and plans for the restoration of the ban¬ 
ished King Tarquin of Rome. They had had 
secret dealings with the friends and adherents 
of the deposed dynasty. 

Certainly their punishment should be severe. 

But there is a reason why Junius Brutus is 
expected to be lenient with them. The crowd 
surrounding him watch the Chief Consul’s face 
for signs of yielding—which they do not dis¬ 
cover ! 

The moment for sentence comes. 

Junius Brutus pronounces it with the cold 
words: 

“ Lictors, do your duty! ” 

A shudder runs through the assemblage. 

For a father has condemned his sons to 
death! 

The Lictors seize upon the two youths, 
scourge them first and then behead them. They 
fall dead at the feet of their father: Junius 
Brutus. 

Thus Junius Brutus, at the expense of his 
own heart, vindicated one of the chief gifts 
given by Ancient Rome to the world—that 
of fidelity to law. 


“ I SCARCELY GAVE MYSELF TIME 
TO THANK AND KISS THAT 
LITTLE FRIEND ” 

DU GUAY TROUIN, FRENCH PRIVATEER, 

1673-1736 

Brave almost to the point of madness, Du 
Guay Trouin, commander of a French Priva¬ 
teer, is fighting six English men-of-war. Not 
that he would choose to engage quite so 
many at once! But they have chased him in 
among the Scilly Isles—that lie off Land’s 
End. 

Du Guay Trouin’s ship, the Diligente, is all 
but vanquished. The men, less reckless than 
their captain, begin to run from their posts. 
Trouin calmly provides himself with a tub of 
hand-grenades, which he throws, one by one, 
down below. This forces the men up and to 
the guns again! 

But it cannot last. 

Du Guay Trouin and his ship are taken by 
the English and carried off to Plymouth. 

At first the gay young Frenchman is given 

“ the whole town for his prison.” He is enter- 

283 



284 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


tained by English Officers and gentlefolk of 
Plymouth. 

At one period of his career, Du Guay Trouin 
had, no doubt inadvertently, so far forgotten 
himself as to fly English colors while ap¬ 
proaching an English ship with hostile intent 
and firing upon it. This was, of course, a gross 
breach of international law. Unfortunately 
for him, there now turned up at Plymouth the 
very captain of that ship upon which he had 
fired. 

This little circumstance leads to Trouin’s be¬ 
ing “ treated as a pirate,” and put in gaol. 

Handsome and charming, Trouin was al¬ 
ways fascinating to women. He had made 
such good use of his time in Plymouth as to 
have formed a dear friendship with a “ pretty 
shop-girl.” 

Through her contrivances, Trouin is enabled 
to escape. He meets her in a cafe, by the aid 
of a disloyal officer—but, as he writes himself: 
“ I scarcely gave myself time to thank and 
kiss that little friend ” before he was out at 
the back, over the wall and away! Away—safe 
to France. 

And all this when he was only twenty-one! 


“ ONE OF THE THINGS WHICH 
MAKE LIFE WORTH WHILE ” 


CECIL JOHN RHODES, 1853-1902 
At council of African Chiefs 

Eager black faces peer out among the 
rugged granite boulders. Wild black eyes 
scan the desolate landscape of the Matoppo 
Hills in Africa. The savage Matabele war¬ 
riors are deeply hidden from any attack by 
their white enemies, the Englishmen. 

For whom, then, do their sentinels watch and 
wait? 

For the only white man whom they trust: 
Cecil Rhodes. 

See—he comes! The long assegais or spears 
of the warriors shake aloft in frantic excite¬ 
ment, as they sweep down—some hundred of 
them—upon the three or four white men slowly 
approaching. 

Cecil Rhodes hopes to treat with the native 
chiefs for peace, and thus end a bloody and 
expensive war. He and his friends are en¬ 
tirely unarmed, and have even tethered their 

horses some way behind them. All this, to 

285 



286 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

promote confidence in the savage, ignorant 
chiefs confronting him. 

Cecil Rhodes stands now, a big, heavy-look¬ 
ing man, whose control over his own faculties is 
marvelous. 

These first moments are crucial! Any sign 
of fear on Rhodes’ part will bring all the native 
bands upon the defenseless white men. 

Calmly, through his interpreter, Cecil 
Rhodes discusses matters. A long palaver en¬ 
sues. Rhodes makes and extracts such conces¬ 
sions as he deems best. 

At the end, Cecil Rhodes snaps sternly: 
“ Now for the future, is it peace or war? ” 

A moment’s fateful pause! 

Then the Matabele Chiefs, laying down their 
sticks as a symbol, answer in one word: 

“ Peace.” 

Cecil Rhodes rides quietly away among those 
hills whose cold beauty he loves, and which he 
has named the “ View of the World.” Care¬ 
lessly he remarks to one of his friends: 

“ An occurrence like this is one of the things 
which make life worth while.” 

Imperial statesman that he is, he has gained 
another bloodless victory for his beloved Eng¬ 
land, by his personal audacity and acuteness. 


“ NOTHING SUCCEEDS LIKE SUC¬ 
CESS ” 

SAID CONCERNING FIRST OPERATION UN¬ 
DER ETHER—PERFORMED BY DR. JOHN 
COLLINS WARREN, 1778-1856 

The surgical amphitheatre of the Massa¬ 
chusetts General Hospital was, in October, 
1846, the scene of a thrilling event. A dis¬ 
tinguished audience watched an experiment, in 
the success of which they had small faith. 

It had been announced that an operation was 
to be performed for a tumor upon the neck 
during which the patient would feel no pain. 

Dr. John Collins Warren, senior surgeon 
and one of the founders of the hospital, was 
the daring operator. Nearly seventy, Dr. 
Warren’s upright form, his piercing eyes and 
strongly marked face showed forth his iron 
will and cool determination. 

He was, like his colleagues, ready at all 
times to spend himself unsparingly for his 
patients. Why not? Was it not the tradition 
of a noble profession? 

The stories of the lives of surgeons and 
doctors in America are inscribed with almost 
unparalleled records of fidelity to the ideal of 
service. 

287 


; 


288 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Dr. Warren was now rejoicing in the dis¬ 
covery of a new drug: Ether, “ A soother of 
anguish.” 

Prior to this time, there had always been 
intolerable pain connected with surgery, which 
had seriously hampered its beneficial results. 
The patient had been tied, or held by half a 
dozen assistants. The barber’s pole had been 
invented—in the old days when barbers were 
also surgeons—for the purpose of being placed 
between the patient’s outstretched hands and 
holding them quiet. 

Nothing, however, had stopped the pitiful 
screams for mercy, which must have shaken the 
surgeon’s soul, although they did not his knife. 

Ether! Marvelous assuager! 

* In Dr. Warren’s own words: “ It has been 
happily employed,” and is “ quite satisfac¬ 
tory!” 

To this first occasion was aptly applied: 

“ Nothing succeeds like success! ” 

For the success of the anaesthesia of Ether 
converted all skeptics. Henceforth it was used 
to the incalculable benefit of science. 

On the anniversary of “ Ether Day,” all 
members of the hospital’s organization wear 
carnations in their buttonholes. 



“ THIS WHEN EVERYTHING HAS 
BEEN NEARLY DONE! ” 

SKOBELEF, RUSSIAN GENERAL, 1843-1882 

Things that no human body should be 
called on to endure are done and suffered this 
day. 

Nobly our fine, strong Russian regiments 
have thrown themselves against the Turkish 
forces. It is the third battle of Plevna, in the 
war of 1877. Frightfully have our ranks been 
decimated. 

Through blood we struggle on, to gain the 
redoubt. Through such blood, that even the 
fog of smoke which chokes us seems to smell 
and taste of it. 

Our adored Skobelef, the “ White General,” 
leads us. He is clad in white uniform, and 
rides one splendid white horse after another— 
as they are shot from under him. 

Now—now—we gain the fort at fearful 
cost of life. Our dying cheer us as we swarm 
over the earthworks. 

Exhausted, we sink down on disfigured 

bodies and lie fainting in slimy blood. Hardly 

289 




290 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

can we lift our eyes to where the Russian flag 
floats safe on the ramparts. 

At once Skobelef stations a force to hold the 
fort which we have taken, and himself gallops 
away to another part of the battle for rein¬ 
forcements. 

What is this news which meets him? 

No help is to be sent him! 

What? 

He can take no reinforcements back to the 
rescue of us, his men, who are holding this re¬ 
doubt which we have gained? Holding it, one 
against a hundred—and waiting for him! 

Skobelef already hears the ghoulish shouts 
of the Turkish victors. 

He knows how the Turks will torture his 
wounded men. They will build fires on bleed¬ 
ing breasts and tattoo the Cross on pain- 
stricken bodies. 

In agony Skobelef cries aloud: 

“ They will give us nobody and nothing to 
help us—and this when everything has been 
nearly done! ” 

During thirty hours Skobelef has borne 
horrors calmly; but to be forced thus to aban¬ 
don and betray his men breaks his heart. The 
warrior leans forward on his saddle and weeps. 



“ SHE MINISTERED A LONG CORD 
TO HIM TO LET HIMSELF 
DOWN UPON ” 

OLD CHRONICLE OF MARGARET TWINES- 

LACE 
About 1590 

A graceful form rises from its couch, in 
stealthy quiet. 

The ladies in waiting take turns to sleep in 
the bedchamber of the Queen. To-night Mar¬ 
garet Twineslace is on duty. 

She casts a terrified glance at the canopied 
bed, where sleep James VI of Scotland and 
his consort, Anne. 

If their Majesties wake—all is lost! 

How the boards creak under her trembling 
feet, as she steals across the room! She gains 
the door—thank Heaven she is outside. 

Margaret flies down the corridors to the 
guard-room of the castle and accosts the aston¬ 
ished soldiers. Breathlessly she demands of 
them that they bring their prisoner at once— 
yes, at once—to the Queen. 

The guard at first demurs. 

What—in the middle of the night? The 
prisoner, John Wemys, who is attainted of 

high treason, for merely conversing casually 

291 






292 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


with one of the rebel Lords? Why, he lies 
under the severe displeasure of the King. His 
life is to be the forfeit. 

But—the guards know the lady in waiting 
by sight—and Queens have queer whims! 
They do not dare disobey. 

They conduct John Wemys to the door of 
the Queen’s bedchamber. 

Once safe inside that sanctuary, we can 
fancy the stolen, rapturous, fearful embrace of 
the lovers. For of course they were lovers! 

Then the plucky damsel “ ministered a long 
cord to him, to let himself down upon. ” 
Heaven knows where she got it! 

And John Wemys is down the castle wall 
and away—safe—safe. 

How Margaret must have wept and palpi¬ 
tated as she crept back to her mattress. 

Then the early summer morning breaks and 
their Majesties awake. 

The guards, patiently waiting outside the 
door—demand their prisoner! 

Fortunately their Majesties think the whole 
matter a delightful joke! 

So Wenrys is pardoned and he and his brave 
Margaret are married and live happily ever 
after. 






“ THE LEG WOUNDED IN HIS 
COUNTRY’S SERVICE SHOULD 
BE EMBALMED IN MEMORY ” 

SAID OF BENEDICT ARNOLD, 1741-1801 

To fight for his country—to risk his life for 
his native land—to be ready to die the death of 
a patriot and a soldier. Can a man do more 
than this? 

Is there no virtue, no salvation, in such a 
course that can steady a man and hold him safe? 

Nay—there is no security for him who dallies 
with temptation all the days of his life. 

Benedict Arnold was always a self-seeker. 
He put always his own private ambition and 
vanity first, before his country’s service. 

Yet—what a brave and gallant officer he 
was! 

See him at the second battle of Saratoga, in 
the autumn of 1777, when General Gates is in 
command. 

The American cause is sadly trembling in 
the balance, for the raw militiamen are yield¬ 
ing, faltering. And the redoubt, the important 
fortress which crowns Bemiss’s Heights, is yet 
to be won. 


293 



294) HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

This redoubt is held by Hessians, those hire¬ 
lings of the British King, in their elaborate 
uniforms. They present the dogged resistance 
of men long trained in the strategy of war. 

Who comes crashing up on a powerful black 
horse, to lead the forlorn hope? Benedict Ar¬ 
nold! 

He dashes to the front and leads a glorious 
charge—leads the banner of the Continentals 
to victory. The black horse falls dead as his 
rider cries to General Gates that Saratoga is 
won! As the words pass his lips, Benedict Ar¬ 
nold’s leg is badly wounded by a cannon-ball. 

This is the man who later turns traitor and 
strives to betray and sell his country. 

Benedict Arnold died in England, alone, 
dishonored. 

“ The leg wounded in his country’s service 
should be embalmed in memory, while the dis¬ 
honored body rots, forgotten, in the dust! ” 

For a man can rise only to those heights 
which he has taught himself to attain. 


“LOOK TO YOURSELVES, MY MAS¬ 
TERS, FOR THE LIONS ARE 
GOT LOOSE ” 

A RETAINER OF LORD HERBERT, LATER 

SIXTH EARL OF WORCESTER, 1601-1667 

What! These wretched Roundheads, ad¬ 
herents to the cause of the Commonwealth, 
insist upon entering Raglan Castle? Crop- 
eared knaves—traitors to the principles of 
monarchy and aristocracy! 

Raglan Castle, the noble building of the 
Beauforts where is lived the stately feudal life 
of hunting and hawking! The old Earl is 
furious. 

Yes. These Puritan rustics declare they in¬ 
tend to search the Castle for arms, the stout 
old Earl being known as a King Charles man. 

It occurs to the old Earl that his son, the 
young Lord Herbert, is always experimenting 
and fussing with mechanical contrivances. He 
has lately completed some silly invention in his 
“ operatory,” as Lord Herbert calls his work¬ 
shop. Cannot he give the knaves a scare? 

Surely! 

Lord Herbert causes the rustics to be guided 

296 


296 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

over a bridge which arches the waters of the 
moat between the Castle and an outlying 
tower. As the men reach the middle of the 
bridge, a sudden appalling noise crashes out. 
A fearful, hideous roaring. 

As the poor fellows stand paralyzed with 
terror, there comes running a retainer of Lord 
Herbert. Casting terrified glances behind him, 
he shouts: 

“ Look to yourselves, my masters, for the 
lions are got loose.” 

Whereupon the searchers flee precipitately. 
They tumble over each other so fast to escape 
from the awful fate of being eaten alive by 
lions that the delighted inhabitants of Raglan 
Castle expect to see one-half trample the other 
half to death. 

The trick is accomplished. But how? 

Why, simply, Lord Herbert explains, by 
his newly perfected “ water-commanding en¬ 
gine. ” By means of this invention of his, 
through the power of various wheels, large 
quantities of water are let down from the top 
of the high tower. The sound of this unseen 
cataract reverberating and echoing between the 
high walls of stone sounds like—well, perhaps 
like lions! 


“ TO SHOOT YOU WITH ” 

WILLIAM TELL, TO GESSLER, AUSTRIAN 
GOVERNOR OF FOREST CANTONS 

Middle of the Fifteenth Century 

We see an excited throng of men surging 
about a high pole. What is that tied on the 
top? Can it be a man’s hat? 

This is the middle of the fifteenth century, 
and the Swiss Confederation is struggling for 
its national freedom against Austria. 

The hated Austrian Gessler, “ Bailiff of 
Uri,” has imposed insolent conditions upon the 
Swiss. 

Gessler has now actually fastened his hat to 
this pole, and requires the people to bow down 
to it! What effrontery! 

William Tell, one of the young Swiss pa¬ 
triots, flatly refuses. 

He cocks his own small cap in defiance. His 
tunic, or shirt, is belted closely, and one sleeve 
is fancifully embroidered with devices in silver. 

William Tell has great influence with his 
fellows. His insubordination must be promptly 
punished. 


297 


298 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


William Tell’s own little son is brought be¬ 
fore the protesting crowd. The child is posed 
at the corner of a street, and an apple is bal¬ 
anced on his head. His small startled face 
smiles bravely. 

Then, with a sardonic grin, Gessler bids 
William Tell shoot the apple from the child’s 
head. 

Men recoil in horror! Can a father steady 
his hand and his heart for such a shot? 

William Tell goes with sturdy steps for his 
cross-bow and an arrow. With incredible 
rapidity he fits the arrow to the string—a 
whizz—the arrow strikes the apple, and the 
child is safe. 

As Tell turns away from the delighted 
plaudits of the crowd, another arrow falls from 
his doublet. 

What was that second arrow for? Gessler 
wonders! 

“ To shoot you with,” replies Tell fearlessly, 
“ had I failed in the task you imposed upon 
me.” 

Only a few years later, Tell carries a third 
arrow. From a “ hollow way,” or glen, he 
shoots Gessler dead. Thus helping to free his 
country from its oppressors. 




“ CUT THE DIKES!” 


PRINCE WILLIAM I OF ORANGE—NASSAU— 
SURNAMED THE SILENT, 1533-1584 

A sick-room, where a man desperately ill 
with fever tosses and turns. 

Our thoughts are naturally concerned with 
soothing potions and cooling drinks. 

The patient himself is working indeed on a 
problem of life and death, but it is the national 
life and death of his native land. 

Suddenly he raises himself on his elbow, and 
thunders the order: 

“ Cut the dikes! ” 

What! Does the patient rave? 

To cut the dikes would be to flood this fair 
country of Holland. For its green and fertile 
fields and meadows are protected by dikes 
from the waters of the ocean. Most of Hol¬ 
land lies below sea-level. 

Its long sea-walls are its defense. They 
have been built, these wonderful dikes, with 
the greatest labor and expense. 

Cut them now! Merciful Powers, what a 
command! 


299 


300 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Well does our sick man know, however, what 
he is about. 

He is Prince William I of Orange—Nassau. 
He was brought up as a page in the house¬ 
hold of the Emperor Charles V, and by his 
youthful discreetness earned for himself the 
surname, The Silent. 

He is now the great Protestant leader of the 
Netherlands or Holland and Belgium against 
the incroachments of Spain. He becomes the 
Founder of the Dutch Republic. 

The city of Leyden is being cruelly besieged 
by the Spaniards. It has proved for months 
impossible to get help to the inhabitants by 
land. 

The laconic order of William the Silent is 
obeyed! 

The dikes are cut! 

A tempestuous rush of the ocean waves in¬ 
undates the flat green country about Leyden. 
Thus the vessels of the navy of Holland are 
enabled to sail up to the city doors! 

Leyden is saved. 

In honor of this great deliverance the Uni¬ 
versity was founded, which was speedily to 
make the name of Leyden illustrious through¬ 
out Europe. 


“ WITH AN AMANUENSIS TO 
WRITE TO HIS DICTATION ” 

SAID OF JOHN MILTON, ENGLISH POET, 

1608-1674 

We see John Milton “ sitting in an elbow 
chair dressed in neat black.” The light from a 
window beside him beams quietly on his long 
thin hair and pale face. 

The room with its massive furniture is full 
of books. But their master reads them no 
more. Neither do his slender, sensitive fingers 
guide any more the pen—with whose touch 
they were wont to be so familiar. 

For John Milton, the greatest of England’s 
epic poets, has been blind for many years. He 
is forced now to compose, “ with an amanuensis 
to write to his dictation.” 

Fortunately he has three daughters. Many 
times one or the other of them must have writ¬ 
ten the “ twenty or thirty lines ” which he liked 
to dictate every morning early. 

These demure Puritan girls, with their fair 
hair and gentle faces, must often have been 
overwhelmed with admiration and awe by their 

father’s majestic words. 

301 


t 


302 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

For these are the seven years when Milton, 
living simply with his family in London or the 
country, is composing “ Paradise Lost.” 

It has been said that no poem was ever writ¬ 
ten with a more sacred sense of responsibility. 
Milton had looked forward to the writing of it 
from his early youth. 

Its subject is man’s struggle with evil. 
Therefore the real hero of Paradise Lost is 
mankind. The Satan of Milton is one of the 
great creations of literature: an archangel 
still, though an “ archangel ruined.” 

For this wonderful piece of literature Mil- 
ton received about twenty pounds—equal to 
somewhere about three hundred dollars to-day. 
Think of the editions that have been published 
since! 

Milton’s sonnet on his blindness rings on our 
ears like a Cathedral bell, with its beauty and 
clearness of phrasing. Its solemn questioning, 
its deep pathos, lead up to the grand chord of 
its ending: 


“ Those also serve who only stand and wait.” 




Milton and His Daughters. 








“ THINE, O KING, ARE OUR TRO¬ 
PHIES AND OUR KINGDOM! ” 

BOABDIL, KING OF THE MOORS 

At the Conquest of Granada, 1492 

We see two processions approaching each 
other through the sunny streets of Granada. 

One is composed of a splendid body of 
cavalry, Knights, and Squires, gayly attired, 
heralded by the sound of triumphant trumpets. 
It is the gorgeous retinue of the Christian 
Sovereigns, Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain. 

The other is a small body of horsemen who 
ride in moody silence. Their flashing dark 
eyes, their swarthy faces, proclaim them Moors. 
They follow their King Boabdil into exile. 

As the two companies meet, King Boabdil 
renders the keys of the city of Granada to the 
Spanish King, with the words: 

“ Thine, O King, are our trophies and our 
kingdom! ” 

Ferdinand in all graciousness forbids any 
act of outward homage from his unfortunate 
and gallant enemy. He restores to Boabdil 
his young son, who had been in the Spaniard’s 

hands for some time as a hostage. 

303 


304 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


But what polite kindness from his conqueror 
can assuage Boabdil’s grief? Spain is lost to 
him and to his Nation forever. It had been 
more or less in varying amounts of the country 
under Moorish domination for seven centuries. 

As the Moors ride away from Granada, they 
stop on an elevated hill from which is to be 
obtained the last view of the fair city. 

They see the Alhambra, that magnificent 
Palace of the Moorish Kings. Already from 
its tower gleams a jeweled Cross, the symbol 
of those hated “ dogs of Christians.” 

Boabdil thinks with tender sorrow of the 
marble halls of the Alhambra—decorated with 
elegant “ storied inscriptions,” and ceilings of 
red and gilt and azure. Its cool interior 
Courts, where fountains refresh the air; where 
orange and citron and pomegranate trees per¬ 
fume the sunlight, and the song of the nightin¬ 
gale floods through the blue night under the 
silvery southern moon. 

Well is this hill called to this very day “ El 
ultimo sospiro del Moro,” or “ The Last Sigh 
of the Moors.” 


“THE SOONER, THE BETTER! ” 

REPLY OF HIS MEN TO DON JOHN OF 
AUSTRIA, 1545-1578 

Before the Battle of Lepanto 

Like sea-fowls that flutter in circling, white 
sails belly out on the breeze. Blue waves are 
fringed with gilt lace that sunbeams fling far 
on salt spray. 

What? That youth—that stripling—shall 
lead us when we grapple with Infidel forces, 
the Corsairs of Barbary coasts? 

The Turks have harassed Christian vessels 
and taken as slaves their crews. They have 
tortured and maimed and murdered—for years 
in the Mediterranean. Now they threaten to 
overwhelm Europe. 

Therefore, this vast fleet has gathered from 
every Christian shore. Galleys and galleasses, 
nearly three hundred, assemble to fight the 
Moslems. From their high, carved poops float 
the brilliant banners and standards of nobles 
and knights. 

In command of all is this, a lad, Don John of 
Austria—magic name of knightly prowess! 

Young as he is, he is already distinguished by 

305 



306 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

his battles against the Turks—by his deeds of 
gentle chivalry. 

Watch him stride the deck of his vessel, 
dressed in white velvet, sumptuous, jeweled. 
Round his manly breast is fastened a silk scarf 
of beating crimson—beating as his heart beats 
proudly. For his young and ardent spirit is 
as a soaring flame to light us to the paths of 
glory. 

When our lookout cries from the maintop 
that the Turkish navy heaves in sight—Don 
John gayly asks his men: 

44 Are you ready to fight? ” 

Back comes the gallant answer: 

44 Aye, sir, and the sooner the better! ” 

Such men under such a leader! How can 
we fail to win? 

It is indeed a tremendous and sweeping 
triumph for the Christians—one of the most 
decisive naval battles in history. 

Twelve thousand Christian slaves are set free 
from Turkish galleys. 

When Pope Pius V hears of it, on his knees 
he cries in reverent thanksgiving: 44 There was 
a man sent from God—whose name was John.” 




“ OR MOLLY STARK IS A WIDOW 

TO-NIGHT! ” 

JOHN STARK, AMERICAN SOLDIER AND 
PATRIOT, 1728-1822 

At the Battle of Bennington 

Numbers of trees have been felled in mad 
haste to obstruct the roads here in our northern 
country. Bridges over rushing streams have 
been demolished. 

All this has helped to hamper the advance 
of our enemy, General Burgoyne. Yet still 
he pushes on with his five hundred British sol¬ 
diers. He has with him also a horde of the 
ravaging, scalping Indians to whom he has 
issued a proclamation inviting them to join 
him. 

They are coming towards Bennington, Ver- 
mont, where there is a magazine of our mili¬ 
tary stores. These stores are most important 
to our American Army. 

They must be saved! To the rescue! 

Here comes John Stark, brave and chival¬ 
rous New Englander, with his New Hamp¬ 
shire Militia, and the “ Green Mountain Boys,” 
as those of the Vermont Contingent are called. 

Stark had been at Bunker Hill. He knows 

307 


308 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


that the American troops, raw and undisci¬ 
plined as they are, can be depended on. 

He and his men reach the outskirts of Ben¬ 
nington and find Burgoyne and his forces al¬ 
ready there. 

As the Americans sweep into line, they see 
the redcoats preparing for defense. 

Stark cries out now to his men, and his gal¬ 
lant, rallying call rings across the hot August 
fields: 

“ There, my boys, are your enemies, red¬ 
coats and Tories! Y r ou must beat them—or 
Molly Stark is a widow to-night! ” 

Aye! For had the Americans been too hard 
put to it—had the Britishers driven them back 
—John Stark would have given his own life to 
the “ forlorn hope.” His wife would have been 
a widow that night. 

But quite the contrary—under such a leader 
—the Americans win—win the famous battle 
of Bennington, the victory which did much to 
bring about the capitulation of General Bur¬ 
goyne. 

John Stark received the thanks of Congress, 
and was made Brigadier-General. 

And pretty Molly Stark was still a happy 
wife! 



“ EGYPTIAN PILLS AT THIRTY 
SHILLINGS A DRAM ” 

ALESSANDRODI CAGLIOSTRO, ITALIAN 
ALCHEMIST, 1743-1795 

Oh ! my dear, let me prescribe for your lan¬ 
guor and headache. Accompany me to see 
Cagliostro, who is a healer—among his other 
vocations. 

He is said to be the foster-son of an Eastern 
Potentate and to have studied the occult 
sciences with sages and magicians. 

Scandals against him? Oh, yes, I know 
things have been hinted. But he is really a most 
respectable person, and has with him always 
his charming wife, the Countess Seraphina. 
She assists him in his sales of a wonderful 
medicament which he calls “ Egyptian pills at 
thirty shillings a dram.” 

He sells beauty waters, too, and deliciously 
flavored potions. He even claims to have 
drops, more precious than nectar, which restore 
the sweetness and bloom to wrinkled cheeks. 
The Countess adduces herself, as a living ex¬ 
ample of this last elixir. For although ap- 

309 


310 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


pearing young and blooming, she vows she is 
sixty and has a son in the Dutch service! 

Extraordinary! Well—let us go. 

The ladies enter Cagliostro’s dwelling. 

They find him, the quack—the charlatan— 
the forger—in a dimly lighted room. Cabalistic 
designs decorate rich hangings. There are not 
lacking crystals on silver tripods; incense 
brewing over pale fires; waving shadows and 
mysterious voices. Everything, in short, which 
could increase the awe and credulity of super¬ 
stitious persons. 

Cagliostro welcomes the ladies with unctuous 
slyness. His fat, sensual face beams upon 
them. 

He proceeds to prophesy and promise mar¬ 
vels in unintelligible jargon. For although he 
had a smattering of many languages, Caglios¬ 
tro was master of none. 

The ladies, his delighted dupes, part with 
gold and jewels for love philtres. 

Dear ladies—could you only foresee the end 
of your charming imposter! 

Having plied his trade of liar in many 
countries, Cagliostro ended his days in an Ital¬ 
ian fortress. His wife was immured in a Con¬ 
vent. 



“ HE WOKE ONE MORNING TO 
FIND HIMSELF FAMOUS ” 

SAID OF LORD GEORGE GORDON BYRON, 

1788-1824 

On the publication of his poem, “ Childe 

Harold ” 

What a youth he had—Lord George Gor¬ 
don Byron, sixth Baron of his name. 

Crowded with experiences—everything to 
the point of exaggeration. Omnivorous study 
and reading; passionate friendships; frantic 
love affairs. 

The Priory and lands of Newstead, in the 
county of Nottingham, had been in Byron’s 
family since 1540. This lordly and historic 
domain, with its beautiful though ruined build¬ 
ings and cloisters, was surrounded by lakes 
and woods and cascades. It was an ideal home 
for one who was to be hailed as the very genius 
of romance. 

To quote Byron’s own words concerning it: 

“ Monastic dome! Condem’d to uses vile! ” 

For the young man made Newstead the 
scene of amazing revels. Here, he and his com¬ 
panions of both sexes, dressed as monks, buf¬ 
fooned and skylarked in appalling manner. 

311 


312 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

But how fascinatingly human the youthful 
scamp must have been! Every one who came 
near enough to Byron seems to have loved him. 

Although slightly lame, Byron was the 
handsomest man of his generation. His small 
head was “ covered and fringed with dark 
auburn curls.” His luminous grey eyes were 
like open portals for the sun. The greatest 
beauty of his high-bred, clear-cut features was 
the mouth, with its upper lip of Grecian short¬ 
ness. 

On coming of age, Byron traveled in the 
East for two years. His long poem “ Childe 
Harold ” is practically a description of his ad¬ 
ventures. 

“ Childe Harold ” was rejected by the first 
publisher to whom it was offered. It was pub¬ 
lished by Murray, of Fleet Street, in the 
spring of 1812. 

Its effect was electric. 

Some of Byron’s early poems had received 
more or less favorable notice. But now at the 
age of twenty-four, “ he woke one morning to 
find himself famous.” 

Byron became the idol of the “ reading pub¬ 
lic,” as he was already of his own social world. 


“ I CAN CONQUER MEN, BUT THE 
LION AND THE WOLF ARE TOO 
STRONG FOR ME!” 

ATTILA, KING OF THE HUNS, CALLED 
“THE SCOURGE OF GOD,” IN 
FIFTH CENTURY 

In the midst of the fifth century, Attila, 
“ The Scourge of God,” gathers together his 
cow-tail banners and swoops down upon the 
world. 

He comes from the almost unheard-of depths 
of Tartary, that vast hive of humanity. His 
revenues when he starts are but his own mili¬ 
tary genius and the valor of his horsemen. Yet 
he conquers practically a vast Empire, from 
China to the Atlantic. 

But with what frightful carnage and cruelty 
does he conquer it! 

They ride with wild recklessness, those 
“ ravaging, raving Huns.” They bring ter¬ 
ror on the wind—and leave behind them a 
horror of havoc. 

On their long marches they eat what herbs 
they can find. Also half-raw meat which they 
first make tender by using it for a saddle! At 
their head gallops Attila. He is clothed like 

his soldiers in skins, but wears a spiked crown 

313 


314 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

of gold. We see him, with his yellow, Mon¬ 
golian complexion and his short, broad-chested 
figure. 

This is the rolling swarm of savages that 
pour down over Europe and Asia. 

City after city falls before the hordes of At- 
tila. Humiliated, ruined, defeated, ruler after 
ruler yields to him. 

We hear of Theodosius II, Byzantium Em¬ 
peror, paying Attila “ 350 pounds weight of 
gold as annual tribute.” 

At last, in 451, King Theodoric of the Visi¬ 
goths in alliance with the Roman General 
iEtius makes an heroic stand not far from 
Orleans. In one of the decisive battles of the 
world, they stem and turn back the Tartar tide 
of invasion. 

The next spring, Attila sets forth again. 

This time he approaches the gates of Rome. 

Pope Leo I and a deputation of Roman 
Senators entreat him for mercy. 

With whimsical complacency, Attila grants 
it and remarks: 

“ I can conquer men, but the lion and the 
wolf are too strong for me! ” 

The “Wolf ” was the guardian animal of 
the founders of Rome. 


“ I WAS ELEVATED BY YOUR LOVE 
ABOVE ALL WOMEN ” 

HELOISE, FRENCH ABBESS, 1101-1163 
Letter to Abelard 

Within a narrow cell—an Abbess writes to 
her spiritual director—but also a passionately 
devoted wife to her husband. 

Alas! Their marriage came too late to save 
sin and scandal. 

It is Heloise who writes to Abelard—names 
dear to constant and unhappy lovers. 

“ I was elevated by your love above all 
women.” 

At the age of eighteen, Heloise became the 
pupil in languages and philosophy of Abelard 
—he was a famous teacher and lecturer, Canon 
at Notre Dame in Paris, and one of the most 
charming and interesting of men. 

It was inevitable that they should love. Im¬ 
possible that they should marry without mar¬ 
ring his prospects of advancement in the 
Church. 

Heloise’s uncle and guardian, the Canon 
Fulbert, became cognizant of their unlawful 
love, and forced them into marriage. 

Infuriated at the dishonor which had fallen 

316 



316 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


upon his house, Fulbert planned a dire revenge. 
In the dead of the night, Fulbert and his hired 
ruffians entered Abelard’s sleeping chamber, 
and perpetrated on him the most brutal mu¬ 
tilation. 

No life was henceforth left for the brilliant 
Master Abelard save that of a monk. The 
Priesthood and Ecclesiastical Office were 
canonically closed to him. 

Abelard buried himself in a Monastery—and 
in his jealous love called upon Heloise to take 
the veil. 

In the flame of her youth, she consented. 
But never for an instant did she cease to love 
Abelard. That her love became purified and 
saddened, we know from the letters which 
passed between them. Abelard preached a 
resignation, hard for both to attain. 

He died comparatively young. 

For twenty-one years longer, the sun and 
changing stars looked through the Convent 
bars on Heloise. She knelt passion-pale upon 
the lonely flags, to pray she might forget— 
while waned the dreary light of her one slow- 
burning taper. 

“ One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight. 

Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight.” 


“ SIX OUT OF EIGHT OF THE CREW 

AGREED” 

JEROME VALBUE, CAPTAIN OF A 
SMUGGLING VESSEL, ABOUT 1660 

A ship on the high seas somewhere off the 
coast of France! 

A ship—its crew absolutely dependent for 
comfort, for health, for very life itself—upon 
their captain. Across the wide, unsounded 
seas no help can reach them against the des¬ 
potism of his decrees. 

Smuggling vessels and privateers had suf¬ 
ficient of the quality and nature of pirate’s 
boats to be particularly vicious in management. 

Jerome Valbue, captain of a smuggler, has 
become irritated with a common seaman named 
Lanoix, and has flung his tin cider-mug at the 
man’s head. He has also cursed Lanoix and 
his Huguenot Religion, hurling insulting 
epithets. 

Out comes the seaman’s knife, and in a sec¬ 
ond the captain’s arm is badly gashed. The 
instinct of discipline brings the rest of the crew 
to answer the captain’s roar. A free fight 

ensues. Lanoix succeeds in killing one man, 

317 



318 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


stabbing him to the heart. But he is of course 
overcome by numbers, and pinioned. 

Then Captain Valbue pronounces the ver¬ 
dict. 

First—Lanoix has wounded his captain. 
For this offense Lanoix’s arm is lashed to the 
windlass and Valbue proceeds to knock the un¬ 
fortunate man down, so that the flesh is 
stripped from Lanoix’s arm. 

Second—Lanoix has slain one of his ship¬ 
mates. For this crime, the dead body is bound 
to Lanoix, who is still alive, although sorely 
wounded. Valbue then orders them both to be 
“ tossed overboard.” 

A couple of the other sailors venture to re¬ 
monstrate, but quite unavailingly. The blue 
waters close over the two bodies—one quick, 
the other dead. 

Captain Valbue calmly reports the whole 
circumstances later to the authorities at Calais. 
He adds casually: 

“Six out of eight of the crew agreed.” 

It is said that this grewsome circumstance 
was one of the things which led to the revamp¬ 
ing of the Maritime Codes, or Laws, then in 
vogue, and under which such occurrences were 
possible. 


“ I FEEL AS BIG AS ANYBODY ” 

TOM THUMB, CELEBRATED DWARF, 

1837-1883 

Remark to Queen Victoria 

A magnificent apartment—just the kind 
a Queen should live in! 

Panels of gold all over the walls, with heavy, 
gilt cornices. Sofas and chairs covered with 
rich yellow satin, and heavy draperies of the 
same at windows and doors. And the tables 
and pianos, too, are mounted in gold. 

This is Buckingham Palace. 

Into all this gorgeousness toddles a figure 
not two feet in height. This tiny fellow is 
dressed in elaborate court dress—short 
breeches, white silk stockings, with his cocked 
hat under his arm, and a dress sword by his 
side. He is a bright-eyed little fellow, with 
light hair and ruddy cheeks, and is as symmet¬ 
rically formed as an Apollo. 

“ General ” Tom Thumb—or to give him his 
real name, Charles S. Stratton, is being pre¬ 
sented to Her Majesty, Queen Victoria. 

The gracious Queen, who had seen the little 

Tom Thumb before, smilingly took him by the 

319 





320 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


hand. She then said to him that the beautiful 
child of about three years old, by her side, was 
the Prince of Wales. 

Tom Thumb regarded him gravely. Then 
he remarked: 

“ The Prince is taller than I, but I feel as 
big as anybody.” 

In leaving the room, Tom Thumb had been 
told that he must “ back out,” the correct pro¬ 
cedure in quitting the presence of Royalty. 
This he endeavored faithfully to do. But his 
little legs were too short to keep up with his 
“ guardian,” Mr. P. T. Barnum, and the Lord 
in Waiting who was ushering them out. 

Whenever, therefore, the unembarrassed 
Dwarf found that he was losing ground, he 
turned and ran a few steps, until he caught up 
with the backing gentlemen. Then he resumed 
the position of “ backing out,” and thus alter¬ 
nated his methods of getting to the door—to 
the great delight of the Queen and Her Ladies. 


“ I AM ANGRY WITH THIS 
WRETCHED FRAME OF MINE ” 

NAPOLEON II, CALLED L’AIGLON, 1811-1832 

An eaglet—but an eaglet in a cage of gilt! 

What? Must I beat out my young dreams 
against the bars of reality? Must my spirit, 
which came to me from my father, the Emperor 
Napoleon I, break my sickly body like a crys¬ 
tal beaker? 

My mother, Marie Louise, brought me, a lit¬ 
tle child, here to the Court of her father, the 
Emperor of Austria. We came when my 
father was sent a prisoner to Elba—and by the 
Heavens above me, I swear that the Empress, 
my mother, made no effort to rejoin her hus¬ 
band. 

She expects me—his son—to submit to being 
an Austrian. To be happy, fondled by the 
women, and called the Handsome Due de 
Reichstadt—I whom my father made King of 
Rome. 

And now he is dead who might have rescued 
his son. He who would have cured me and 
taught me to be a strong man like himself. 

Little do the arrogant Austrians think that 

321 





322 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

I have read and studied in secret my father’s 
marvelous strategy. I have thus with ardor 
equipped myself to lead his troops. 

For—close in your ear—I have friends out¬ 
side this palace. The Bonapartists—whose 
hearts still beat for France—seek to place my 
father’s son upon his throne. 

What? You murmur that the doctors say I 
am now—even now—sinking under a galloping 
consumption? 

Tush! I listen not to such tales. 

Bring me—see, I have it hidden here—my 
treasured possession—the hat of the “ Little 
Corporal.” I wear it as proudly as a crown. 

Ah! I faint! 

“ Gentlemen—pardon my weakness—I am 
angry with this wretched frame of mine.” 

Father! It is the wings of thy eagles of 
gold—not the black eagles of Austria—that 
hover over me. They swoop down—to bear 
me away. 




“ WE WED THEE, SEA! ” 

SEBASTIAN ZIANI, DOGE OF VENICE 

At the ceremony of the “ Sposalizio del Mar ” 

in 1177 

Out the Lido port from Venice comes a 
fleet of stately boats. From Venice—lovely 
city resting on her salt lagoons. 

Every boat is decked and painted, and all 
bear brilliant standards. See—the Golden 
Lion of Saint Mark flames upon its crimson 
ground! 

The magnificent procession is led by a 
sumptuous galley, scarlet, decorated with pure 
gold. It is called Bucentaur, from the Italian 
“ Buzino d’oro,” meaning “ golden bark.” In 
it sits the Doge—his pomp is splendid, for he 
is the symbol of his people’s majesty. 

There are sounds of silver trumpets; silver 
cymbals; and crushed roses die upon the waves 
of the Adriatic. 

For many hundred years, on Ascension Day, 
has this function been reacted. It commemo¬ 
rates a glorious victory, by which was prac¬ 
tically established the supremacy of the Vene¬ 
tian Republic, in the Adriatic. 

323 



324 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Hark! Sweetly chant the Priests, for this 
ceremony is one of supplication and of prayer: 

“ Grant, O Lord, that for us and for all who 
sail thereon, the sea may be calm and quiet.” 

The Doge and his suite are then besprinkled 
, all with Holy Water, the rest of which is 
thrown into the sea. This symbolizes the re¬ 
jection of sin, and a desire to propitiate the sea. 

But this year of 1177 we see an added 
beauty, which shall be for centuries performed. 

Pope Alexander III has given a consecrated 
ring to the Doge Sebastian Ziani for help ren¬ 
dered by Venice in his wars, and bade him wed 
the sea. 

The Doge rises now in his galley as the other 
boats circle slowly about him, like bright-hued 
herons on the mirroring water. He casts the 
ring into the Adriatic, with the words: 

“ We wed thee, sea! ” 

Thus it is solemnly asserted by the Venetians 
that they and the sea on which they live are in¬ 
dissolubly one. 

Venice—fair bride of the sea! 



Marriage of Venice to the Adriatic. 














“ WE WERE SURE YOU WOULD 

COME! ” 

TO DR. ELISHA KANE, 1820-1857 
Welcome of four men whom he rescued 

The thermometer stands at fifty-five de¬ 
grees below zero. The wind is setting in 
sharply from the northwest. 

The little brig Advance is frozen into the ice 
in the enclosed sea—now Kane Basin—off the 
coast of Greenland. It is the second Grinnell 
Expedition of ’52-’54, in search of Sir John 
Franklin, and is commanded by Dr. Elisha 
Kane, the gallant young Philadelphian. 

A party of men have been out for several 
days on a reconnoitering trip, over the rugged 
ice floes. Strange that they do not return. 

The men who are left are working in the 
laborious, monotonous daily routine, in the 
cramped quarters of the small boat. 

But what is this sudden alarm? 

Down into the cabin stagger three of the ad¬ 
vance party. They are in a terrible condition, 
swollen and haggard, and hardly able to speak. 
They tell a fearful story of exhaustion and 

cold and hunger. Worse still, they have left 

325 



326 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


four of their companions disabled “ some¬ 
where ” on the cruel wastes of snow. 

In deep anxiety, Dr. Kane at once heads a 
rescue party. They carry with them, strapped 
on a hand-sled, that one of the newcomers who 
seems best able to direct them to his lost com¬ 
rades. But this man soon becomes mentally 
confused. It is therefore with the greatest dif¬ 
ficulty that Dr. Kane finds the trail. They 
have of course none of the modern equipment 
for arctic travel, and thus proceed at the cost 
of great suffering. 

After an unbroken march of twenty-one 
hours, the rescuers see a small American flag 
fluttering from a tent-pole, that is breaking 
under a burden of snow. What will they find 
inside? 

As Dr. Kane—always first in cheerful hero¬ 
ism—crawls into that tiny tent, a cry of wel¬ 
come comes feebly from the four poor fellows 
lying frost-bitten and helpless: 

“We were sure you would come! ” 

What a tribute to the character of their 
Commander! 



“ HIS PROBLEM WAS TO FALL IN 
LOVE WITH THE DOWAGER 

ANNE ” 

SAID OF MAURICE COMTE DE SAXE, 
MARSHAL OF FRANCE, 1696-1750 

Fall in love? 

Why, nothing on earth is easier for this 
audacious, handsome young soldier of fortune 
who stands six feet in his stockings and breaks 
horseshoes with his hands. 

Maurice Saxe has been in and out of love 
half a dozen times already. Now a great 
worldly prize hangs upon the bestowing of his 
affections. Surely he will be only too delighted 
with the woman who goes with it! 

Anne Ivanovna, Dowager Duchess of Cour- 
land, has it in her power to confirm Maurice 
Saxe’s aspirations to the Dukedom of Cour- 
land. He has been elected to it through the 
influences of his father, Augustus II of 
Saxony. The Poles and Russians refuse to 
sanction the measure, and Maurice is obliged to 
fight for his new toy. 

With only sixty men, he shuts himself up in 

the Ducal Palace at Mittau. There he is be- 

327 


328 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

sieged by eight hundred, and beats them off 
with astonishing intrepidity. 

But he is hard put to it. He writes home to 
France for men and money. 

One of his sweethearts, whom his “ circular 
black eyebrows and eyes glittering bright ” 
have won for him, is Adrienne Le Couvreur. 
She is a beautiful and very famous actress. 
She sells all her jewels and plate, and sends him 
thirty thousand pounds. 

Defeated at last, the Dowager Anne offers 
him her hand, with the reversion of a Tsar’s 
crown in it. For Anne Ivanovna was the niece 
of Peter the Great of Russia, and ascended its 
throne in 1730. 

Now his problem was to fall in love with 
the Dowager Anne.” 

And Maurice Saxe just couldn’t do it. For 
she was big and brazen and had “ large cheeks 
like a Westphalia ham! ” 

Foolish young man! He makes love to one 
of the ladies of Anne’s suite, under her fat nose 
—thereby losing wife and Dukedom—and the 
throne of Russia. 



“ HANDS TO WORK AND HEARTS 

TO GOD ” 

MOTHER ANN, A FOUNDER OF THE 
SHAKERS, 1736-1784 

On a beautiful, well-wooded slope stand 
some dozen or more buildings. They belong to 
the Shaker Society of New Lebanon, New 
York. 

Mostly of stone, very straight and tall, these 
buildings have an air of quietude and aloof- 

M 

ness. Even the windows seem to mask rather 
than reveal. They look off across a fertile val¬ 
ley to the hills. Often their gentle inmates 
must lift up their eyes unto those hills of God. 
In the early dawn, when silver and lavender 
mists veil the woods; or when at sunset they 
stand clear-cut against flaming clouds, and the 
hermit-thrushes call. 

The beginning of this Community was coin¬ 
cidental with that of the United States. 

One of its Founders was Ann Lee. This 
devoted and pious woman was persecuted by 
civil authorities in England and after she ar¬ 
rived in America. The chief indictment 

brought against her was 44 Sabbath-Breaking.” 

329 


330 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


For the Shakers, believing that religion is a 
“ joyous ” thing, express themselves in wor¬ 
ship by singing and dancing, also by “ shak¬ 
ing ”—hence their name. 

The Shakers believe also that they find 
“ more real good ” from the celibate spiritual 
union of the sexes, and “ more of an absence 
of real evil ” than is ever experienced “ in the 
order of the world’s people.” 

The “ brothers and sisters ” enjoy a kindly 
and friendly intercourse, lightening each other’s 
labors. 

Sturdy and busy farmers are the men; pru¬ 
dent and spotless housewives, the women. 

Always they lead the life of the spirit. 

They follow the precepts of “ Mother Ann,” 
as they affectionately called Ann Lee. 

She taught and preached charity and love to 
all and self-denial. Also the duty of being 
happy and of traveling forward, “ out of our 
loss.” 

To this day, there hangs printed on the walls 
of those houses at New Lebanon her wonderful 
rule: 

“ Hands to work and hearts to God.” 


“ IT IS MAGNIFICENT, BUT IT IS 

NOT WAR ” 

GENERAL PIERRE BOSQUET, 1810-1861 
Of the British cavalry charge at Balaklava 

What? Charge? Charge down that val- 
ley? 

It is a mile long and swept by the guns of 
our enemies, the Russians. 

This is the battle of Balaklava, in the 
Crimean War. The Russians are attacking 
the allied English, French, and Turkish forces, 
which are besieging Sebastopol. 

Charge? Charge and capture the guns at 
the end of that valley? Why, we are only the 
Light Brigade—the Thirteenth Light Dra¬ 
goons. Our six hundred and so, of men and 
horses, yield to none in gallantry, of course. 
But — 

Why, we are usually employed in skirmish¬ 
ing and reconnoitering. That mile of death 
has work for our heaviest artillery. 

Does our Commander, Lord Cardigan, 
realize what it would mean to our troop? 

Yes. He is puzzling over the order from 
British Headquarters. He even asks to have 

it ratified to be sure he understands. 

331 



332 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Then he turns to us. 

Not a man in the Light Brigade falters. 

The stern, young English faces look steadily 
at him, under tossing plumes. The beautiful 
horses paw the ground, and champ the bits with 
their soft lips. 

Now: 

“ Cannon to right of them — 

Cannon to left of them — 

Cannon in front of them — 

Volley’d and thunder’d.” 

Down the valley rode the six hundred. 

Lord Cardigan, and what was left of his 
men, rode straight up to and through the Rus¬ 
sian line of guns. A defeat that had the glory 
of a victory. 

That night at their evening parade, the 
Light Brigade mustered but ten mounted men. 

The French General Pierre Bosquet said of 
this charge: 

“ It is magnificent, but it is not war.” 

Not war? Perhaps not—if war means only 
strategy and out-maneuvering of the enemy. 

But if war is unflinching obedience to our 
superior officers and heroism and selfless de¬ 
votion to the high call of country, then let God 
be the judge. He knows that this was war! 




“ THE FIDDLERS HAVE COME TOO 

LATE ” 

JEAN HENRI FABRE, 1823-1915 
Eminent French scientist 

Lads and lasses are coming down the long 
white roads, in the witching light. 

It is spring in France and a night of full 
moon. The poplar leaves are trembling with 
ecstasy and turning their silver sides to the 
silver moonbeams. 

The fiddlers are expected, momentarily. 

For the young people of a large countryside 
are gathering to dance in the central vil¬ 
lage. 

Wondering glances are cast along the street. 
Why do not the fiddlers come? 

The dance, of course, cannot begin without 
music. The boys and girls laugh and talk, but 
ever and anon one of their number runs out 
into the street, and looks, wistfully, for the 
fiddlers. 

It is really too bad! The hours are going 
by. There are so few—so very few—chances 
for a dance here in these country villages. 

But the night passes, and no music arrives. 

Then at dawn, as the young people are start- 

333 



334 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

« 

ing sadly for home—the fiddlers appear. No 
use now, to listen to their breathless explana¬ 
tion. 

One of the lads, whose name is Jean Henri 
Fabre, says quietly: 

“ The fiddlers have come too late.” 

That is all that can be said. 

Many years afterwards, that lad, grown to 
be an old, old man, lies on his death-bed. 

Fabre has worked all his life in the cause of 
science. 

Prevented by poverty from leaving his own 
restricted neighborhood, he has toiled at great 
disadvantage. He has been obliged to leave 
uncompleted some of his dearest experiments. 
If only some one had helped him—just a lit¬ 
tle—he feels that he could have penetrated fur¬ 
ther into the secrets of the Nature he adores. 

Now at the end, sudden recognition has come 
to him. Eminent scientists are making pil¬ 
grimages to his humble home. Honors and 
decorations are heaped by his bedside. 

Fabre looks at them and says quietly: 

“ The fiddlers have come too late.” 




“ NO RIVAL! ” 

MAJOR JOHN ANDr£, 1751-1780 
Motto on his shield at mock tournament 

A regatta has just taken place on the Dela¬ 
ware River. 

Its gayly dressed throng of Knights and 
Ladies have disembarked and proceeded in 
splendid procession to a smooth piece of green¬ 
sward near by. 

Here a tournament is to be held. 

See! 

There are six Knights of the “ Blended 
Rose” who ride on one side; six Knights of 
the “ Burning Mountain ” on the other. Each 
is attended by his squire. All are in the ex¬ 
treme of richness as to dress and accouter¬ 
ments. In fact, so many are their trimmings 
and mottoes and embellishments that their at¬ 
tire might be called fantastic. 

The first set of Knights cause their herald 
to proclaim the supremacy of their chosen 
Ladies in virtue; in wit; in beauty. Also their 
valiant intention to maintain the same by force 
of arms. 

The second set of course reply, by their her- 

335 


336 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


aid, in defiance, and loudly attest the vast su¬ 
periority of their Lady-loves. 

One of the Knights of the “ Blended Rose ” 
is a certain Major Andre. Young, handsome, 
sprightly, Major Andre has been one of the 
chief planners of this amusing occasion. Its 
character of romance and elegant gayety is 
largely owing to his genius for social life. 

On his shield he bears the device of two 
game-cocks, and the motto: “No Rival! ” He 
appears in honor of Miss Chew. 

Now—in mock heroics the two sides clash. 
Lances are shivered in correct style; pistols dis¬ 
charged with fine effect. Swords are waved on 
high, and horses plunge and caracole. 

Now the Marshal of the Field yields to the 
frantic prayers of the ladies who fear unbe¬ 
coming scratches on their gallants’ faces, and 
orders the fierce combatants to “ desist.” 

The joust over, both sides repair to a hand¬ 
some pavilion for a ball and supper. 

All this while the British army occupies 
Philadelphia, and a few miles away is Valley 
Forge. 


“ HOLY SAINT BRIDE HAS PASSED 

BY ” 

SAID OF SAINT BRIDGET, 452-523 

“ ’Twas long, long ago that Holy Saint 
Bride did be walkin’ the hills and dales of Ire¬ 
land. 

“ A Prince—that’s what her father was. But 
she scorned the world and let it go by her. 

“ She made a cell under a wide oak tree, and 
she lived there, and the place was called ‘ Kil¬ 
dare,’ meanin’ ‘ the Church of the Oak.’ The 
city Kildare takes after it, to this day. 

“ Saint Bride loved the young lambs, and had 
a care for them. And they used to be runnin’ 
after her, through the fields, and crowdin’ till 
they’d come to her—all the little soft bodies 
of them pushin’ and rubbin’. And the bleatin’ 
of them would be soundin’ through the sweet 
air. 

“ And when Holy Saint Bride—ah! the 
lovely girl saint—would come in to the cottage 
wet and perishin’ with the cold, from tendin’ 
the lambs and their mothers—sure there’d be 
no place for her to hang her cloak—no place 

at all—at all. So a sunbeam would come 

337 




338 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

flashin’ in the window, and she’d hang her wet 
cloak on that. And the sunbeam would hold 
it, till it was dried entirely. 

“ Now, you must believe what I do be tellin’ 
you. That Holy Saint Bride does still be 
walkin’ the roads of Ireland—those little mossy 
roads that go ramblin’ through our hearts. 
And she does still be sittin’ by her blessed well 
and watchin’ its ripples—those little grey rip¬ 
ples that flow healin’ through our souls. 

“ And every spring, the shepherds hear 
among the mists the crying of young lambs, 
and by this token they know that Holy Saint 
Bride has passed by with her flock of the count¬ 
less lambs soon to be born in the pastures. 
And the wee lambs do be hastenin’ to reach the 
green grass, and the birds in it springin’ up to 
sing.” 





From Painting by Margaret W. Tarrant. 


Saint Bride. 




“ BRING FORTH THE HORSE! ” 

ORDER GIVEN CONCERNING IVAN 
MAZEPPA, HETMAN OF THE 
COSSACKS, 1644-1709 

“ Bring forth the horse! ” 

And such a horse! 

A wild, unbroken creature, caught only 
lately on the Steppes of Russia. Never has 
saddle touched his heaving flanks, nor bridle 
controlled his tossing head. 

To mount him would be courting death. 

But see! The aged Polish nobleman to 
whom he belongs is urging his stable-men to 
hold him long enough for a slender, beautiful 
youth to be mounted upon him. Mounted? 
Aye, bound with cords that cut and tear the 
naked young body of the lad. 

For alas! this handsome youth is guilty of 
an intrigue with the old Pole’s young wife. 

This is the lad’s punishment! 

The instant the horse is loosened, he flings 
himself out in a mad gallop. Thundering in 
terrifying speed, the horse tries to outrun the 
unknown thing upon its back. While the lad, 

almost sinking under the horror of his fate, yet 

339 


340 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


strives by voice and bound limbs to guide the 
furious animal. 

Hours, miles, fly by. The way and the time 
seem to stretch to interminable agony. Cold 
sweat pours down the lad’s body to mingle with 
the blood from his lacerated flesh upon the 
charger’s foaming flanks. 

Away! away! Through forests whose boughs 
whip—through streams whose waters momen¬ 
tarily refresh—far up into the land of the Cos¬ 
sacks, that fierce people, formed of the fugi¬ 
tives of manv races. 

•/ 

There—at last upon his native heath again— 
the horse, outrun by death, sinks down. 

The lad recovers from a swoon to find him¬ 
self rescued and cared for by the Cossacks. 

He remains among those bold soldiers, and 
becomes one of their ablest leaders. 

He is created in after years their Hetman or 
Prince. 

Thus he had been sent: 

“ —forth to the wilderness 
Bound, naked, bleeding and alone, 

To pass the desert to a throne! ” 



“ GOVERNMENT OF THE PEOPLE, 
BY THE PEOPLE, AND FOR 
THE PEOPLE” 

ABRAHAM LINCOLN, 1809-1865 

At the Dedication of the National Cemetery 

at Gettysburg 

Come close—yes, there is room for one more 
in this row. Do not push, please, gentlemen— 
stand quiet. 

A multitude of people are here, on what was 
only four months ago a battle-field. The war 
for the Union is not yet over. 

Yesterday, a special train came from Wash¬ 
ington, bringing the President, Abraham Lin¬ 
coln and his party. To-day is dedicated this 
portion of the field of Gettysburg as a National 
Cemetery in memory of “ those who here gave 
their lives.” 

We gaze up at the platform where sit the 
speakers for the occasion. It has been told, 
half as joke, half as tribute of admiring affec¬ 
tion, that President Lincoln prepared his short 
speech in the train coming down. That he 
wrote it on a bit of brown wrapping-paper. 

Now, he comes forward. A tall, slouching 

341 



342 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


figure, six feet four inches high, with a great 
head of bushy hair and deep-set grey eyes. 
Eyes that look out over the throngs with a 
steady, tender light. 

Abraham Lincoln struggled through a youth 
of restricted opportunities to gain knowledge 
that became wisdom by the realization of its 
own limitations. He knows himself to be no 
silver-tongued orator. 

He has some truths to tell the people, that 
is all. What does it matter what they think 
of him or of his speech? If he can only ex¬ 
plain to them—show them that the purifying 
fires through which the Nation is passing shall 
be in vain if they do not cleanse us from bit¬ 
terness. If we do not love South and North— 
all America. 

Very quietly he speaks—and we, listening, 
feel suddenly that these truths could have been 
stated in no other words than the ones Abra¬ 
ham Lincoln has chosen: 

“ That the government of the people, by the 
people, and for the people, shall not perish 
from the earth.” 


“ RESOLVED TO MAKE MYSELF 
MASTER OF THE INDIAN 
EMPIRE. DID SO ” 

TAMERLANE, OR THE LAME TIMUR, 

1333-1405 

In his autobiography 

A huge host of Tartars and Mongols cross 
the River Indus in this autumn of 1398. 

It is led by Tamerlane, the renowned Orien¬ 
tal Conqueror. He is as deformed and lame 
in body as he is vicious and cruel in mind. But 
what a marvelous warrior! 

Beginning life as the son of an obscure Mon¬ 
gol Prince, Tamerlane has pursued a frightful 
course of invasion and conquest, until now he 
is hailed as “ The Lame Firebrand of the 
World.” 

He and his yellow-skinned hordes have swept 
into Persia, across to the shores of the Caspian 
Sea, to the banks of the Ural and the Volga. 
Everywhere they have left behind them ghastly 
desolation. 

Now, Timur hears that the Princes of In¬ 
dia are at variance one with another. He sees 

his opportunity, and springs upon them! 

343 


344 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Our beautiful Indian City of Delhi is one of 
the richest in the world with its “ silver streets.” 
What horrible fate approaches it? 

Timur and his hosts are coming nearer and 
nearer, slaying the helpless country folk by the 
thousands, and leaving not a village unburned. 

“ It is a far cry to Delhi ”—so goes the old 
saying. 

But Timur entrenches himself under its 
very walls. 

Out dash the troops of Mahmud, King of 
Delhi, mounted on elephants that are protected 
by mail armor. But at the very first charge 
of the Tartar horsemen, the elephants unseat 
their drivers and flee in terror. 

Timur’s army is let loose upon the almost 
unarmed populace of Delhi. 

Gathering an unbelievable amount of spoil, 
Timur quits India, making no provision to 
hold the Empire he has won. 

In his autobiography he writes: “ Resolved 
to make myself master of the Indian Empire. 
Did so.” 

Extraordinary and laconic statement! 

In a few years he was dead. 

What availed him the agony he inflicted 
upon India? 


“ ROUND AS THE O OF GIOTTO ” 

CONCERNING GIOTTO DI BONDONE, 
ITALIAN PAINTER, 1267-1337 

A shepherd boy is keeping his father’s 
sheep here on the hills of Tuscany. 

The Italian sky is brilliant blue—so blue 
that the color seems to flood down through the 
balmy air. The boy tending the sheep sees the 
gilded crosses swim in it, above the roofs of 
Florence. 

It is all so beautiful that the lad’s artist- 
heart beats exultingly. He must do something 
about it! 

He picks up a sharp stone and begins to 
draw on the side of a smooth boulder. A per¬ 
son must draw the things he knows and loves, 
and being a boy—why, he draws the sheep! 
One is turning its head timidly, and one is 
bending a leg to scratch its nose—that is fear¬ 
fully hard to get right. 

The boy crouches by the boulder, his “ plain, 
flat ” face sober with eager interest. He does 
not know that a gentleman who is walking 
across the hills has paused to watch his work, 

until he feels a hand touch his shoulder. 

345 



346 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

The gentleman is Cimabue, the “ highly- 
esteemed painter.” He is so delighted with the 
naturalness of the lad’s rough sketches that he 
gives him a chance to work in his studio in 
Florence—a chance joyfully accepted. 

This shepherd boy becomes the famous 
painter, Giotto. He who was said to have re¬ 
created the art of painting by freeing it from 
stiff and rigid traditions. Giotto made the 
commonest deed lifelike. In so doing he was 
a great Realist, but his sense of harmony with 
the unseen music of the spheres made him also 
a great Idealist. 

Pope Benedict XI once asked Giotto for a 
proof of his skill. Giotto, in reply, sent him 
an O drawn with a free sweep of the brush, 
from the elbow. 

So perfect was this circle, that “ round as 
the O of Giotto ” became a saying among his 
countrymen. 


“ PERMISSION TO SET UP THE 
FIRST COFFEE-HOUSE IN 
VIENNA ” 

REWARD GIVEN KOLSZICKI, ABOUT 1683 

A gate opens—only a crack. 

The face of a man peers furtively out. Then 
his arm follows, cautiously. The next second, 
the man himself flashes outside, and the gate 
closes noiselessly behind. 

Vienna is being besieged by the Turks. The 
Viennese are hard put to it. It is necessary 
that some one should communicate with the 
Imperial Army—composed of Germans and 
Poles—which is marching to the relief of be¬ 
leaguered Vienna. 

This man, a Pole, named Kolszicki, has vol¬ 
unteered for the desperately dangerous task. 

See him stand now, glancing keenly about. 
He is dressed like a Turk, and is further 
equipped by being intimately conversant with 
the Turkish language and customs. 

Watch him saunter among the tents with 
a casual, unembarrassed air, singing a Turkish 
song. 

The camp of the Turks is spread out in the 

347 



348 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


form of a great crescent. Most of the tents 
are of rich green silk, gorgeous in the sunlight. 

Kolszicki’s idle steps pass the open tent flap 
of an Aga—or Turkish gentleman. The Aga 
is attracted by the man’s cheerful mien and the 
charming, familiar strains of his song. 

The Aga speaks to him. 

Would not his countr}unan like some coffee? 

Coffee! Delightful—of course he would. 

Kolszicki seats himself, drinks coffee, and 
gossips with his host. He learns several im¬ 
portant things—and is warned by the kind- 
hearted Aga against walking too far, and fall¬ 
ing into Christian hands! 

After various adventures Kolszicki safely 
reaches the Danube. There, to his despair he 
is fired upon by the Imperial soldiers, who see¬ 
ing his clothes suppose him to be a Turkish 
spy! 

With great difficulty he persuades them to 
allow him to accomplish his mission. 

He returns to Vienna, triumphantly bear¬ 
ing the despatches for which he was sent. 

He is rewarded by “ permission to set up the 
first coffee-house in Vienna.” 

Let us hope he made a fortune! 



“ LEILA, THE SACRED MARE, IS IN 
THE PROPHECY ” 

LADY HESTER STANHOPE, 1776-1839 

A tall and splendid figure, arrayed in the 
masculine dress of an Eastern Potentate. Bril¬ 
liant complexion; dark, fiery eyes; sonorous 
voice. 

It is an Englishwoman, Lady Hester Stan¬ 
hope. 

For years she has lived on the slope of Mount 
Lebanon, Palestine. The beautiful gardens of 
her house are surrounded by high walls after 
the manner of a medieval fortress. 

From thence, Lady Hester wields an almost 
absolute authority over the tribes of Druses 
that inhabit the near-by arid mountains. Her 
ascendancy was won by her own imperious 
temper and commanding character. 

So important was her influence that when 
Ibrahin Pasha was about to invade Syria in 
1832, he solicited Lady Hester’s neutrality. 

She had left England because her strange 
and arrogant nature could not endure the re¬ 
straints of conventional life. She kept some 
thirty native servants, whom she whipped and 

slapped unscrupulously! 

349 


350 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Lady Hester was so erratic and practically 
unsettled in mind that she believed every self- 
styled prophet and mystic. She was herself 
supposed to possess the gift of divination, 
which undoubtedly increased her hold on the 
superstitious natives. 

At last she was hailed by the native tribes 
as “ The White Queen of the Desert.” This 
was a most extraordinary honor. 

Lady Hester kept in her large stables two 
thoroughbred mares, one of whom was named 
“ Leila.” Because Lady Hester actually be¬ 
lieved in a prophecy which foretold that she 
should ride by the side of the Prophet, into 
Jerusalem. He was to ride one of these mares, 
Lady Hester the other! 

Whenever Leila licked the hand of a person 
who patted her, Lady Hester was sure that 
person was a “ chosen vessel.” Because, as she 
wrote to a friend, “ Leila, the sacred mare, is 
in the prophecy.” 

Gradually Lady Hester grew old and ill. 
Her power waned. 

So we leave her: 

66 —on her desert throne, 

The crazy Queen of Lebanon.” 


“ I HAVE NOT YET BEGUN TO 

FIGHT ” 

JOHN PAUL JONES, 1747-1792 
Answer to English man-of-war 

Up and down the quays of Lorient, France, 
paces a short, sturdy man. His seaman’s face 
is hard and resolute, but oh, the smile of him 
when he chooses to win hearts! 

It is John Paul Jones. He holds a Commis¬ 
sion in the newly formed American Navy. 
His adventures have brought him to France, 
which is on the side of the American Colonies 
in the struggle with England. 

He is waiting for a ship, and gazing out 
across the ocean as if he owned every one that 
sailed its waves! 

At last—at last—his boat arrives. The Bon 
Homme Richard , named after Benjamin 
Franklin’s famous character. Black, un¬ 
wieldy, eaten with sea-worms. 

Wild with excitement, Captain Jones ships 
what crew he can get. Sailors, scourings of 
the port; some English prisoners in charge of 
supercilious French marines. Off they go, 
cursing in six languages. 

After taking several English merchantmen, 

they fight an English man-of-war, the Serapis. 

351 


o 


352 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Most of the old cannon on the Bon Homme 
Richard explode at once. 

Meanwhile the Seraph, beautifully equipped 
in battle array, pours broadside after broadside 
. into her opponent. 

So close are the ships that a conflict by pis¬ 
tol-shot is maintained. 

Then another American boat turns up, and 
by some hideous mistake pours most of her fire 
into the Bon Homme Richard! 

Paul Jones, with his own hands, helps to 
lash the half-wrecked Bon Homme Richard to 
the Serapis. There—she cannot sink now, at 
least, not alone! 

“ Have you struck your colors? ” comes a 
stern voice from the English man-of-war. 

Paul Jones’ answer rings clear—“ I have 
not yet begun to fight.” 

Four hours that marvelous fight lasts. Then 
Captain Pearson of the Serapis surrenders to 
Paul Jones. 

The King of France presented Paul Jones 
with a gold-hilted sword inscribed: “ From 
Louis XVI in recognition of the services of 
the brave Maintainer of the privileges of the 
sea.” 



“BUT THEN WHAT COULD I DO?” 

KING LOUIS XI OF FRANCE, 1423-1483 
Said of the death of his brother 

A dimly lighted Chapel. 

Rows of candles burn before jeweled shrines. 
Their light flickers and wavers and flares up 
again, to gleam on golden halos. 

Before a statue of Our Lady of Clery kneels 
King Louis XI of France. He has taken off 
his old cap, which is ornamented with a row 
of little leaden images of Saints, and has laid 
it humbly at the foot of the gently smiling 
statue. 

Shrewd and wary, King Louis seeks always 
to gain every possible advantage for himself 
and for his country. Why not, then, propitiate 
the Heavenly Powers? How sincere he was in 
his religious enthusiasm history does not ex¬ 
plain. We know that he tried to bribe the 
Patron Saints of his various enemies with 
promises of gifts to their shrines, as he tried 
to bribe their worldly ministers with presents. 

Listen to him now! 

“ Cause me to be pardoned, O my good 

353 


354 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Lady, and I know what a reward I will give 
Thee! ” 

For what sin does King Louis wish pardon? 
Oh! For a mere peccadillo! Simply the mur¬ 
der of his brother, the Duke de Guyenne. 

“ I confess my guilt, but then what could 
I do? He was perpetually causing disorder in 
my kingdom! ” 

Quite satisfied, King Louis rises. 

Unfortunately there has been an eaves¬ 
dropper in the Chapel. 

That evening at the King’s footstool among 
the dogs lies the Court Jester. His cap bears 
a scarlet cockscomb, and his truncheon is hung 
with tinkling bells. 

The courtiers call on him for an amusing 
tale. Lounging, with his arm around the neck 
of a beautiful stag-hound, the Jester drawls 
that the drollest thing he has seen to-day was— 
and then he describes that scene in the Chapel! 

A splendid joke, of course, and hailed as 
such by the courtiers. 

But it must have amused the Jester to watch 
King Louis’ lips grow pale! 


“ THE LADY WITH THE LAMP ” 

SAID OF FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE, 

1820-1910 

England is stirred to its depths by reports 
of tragic suffering. 

It is during the Crimean war, and there are 
thousands of wounded English soldiers on the 
Bosphorus. They are without the commonest 
necessities for comfort. This is largely because 
no one really understands what they need for 
comfort. 

It is amazing to look back upon those days 
and realize how little was done for sick people! 

But across England is going a letter from a 
young Englishwoman named Florence Night¬ 
ingale. In it she offers herself as nurse to the 
Secretary of War. Strangely enough, that let¬ 
ter crosses with one from the Secretary of 
War, asking for Florence Nightingale’s ser¬ 
vices. 

Florence Nightingale leaves England with 
a staff of thirty-seven nurses. 

Under her management, the death-rate in 
the hospitals on the Bosphorus drops from 

forty-two per cent, to two per cent. 

355 


356 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

What she must have meant to those poor, 
wounded, homesick fellows! From ward to 
ward she goes. Even all night she went her 
rounds, her lamp in hand. 

Yet Florence Nightingale, although revolu¬ 
tionizing nursing, employed no mysterious or 
uncanny methods in her cures. It is true that 
she had prepared herself for her chosen pur¬ 
suit of nursing by study, in her youth, at the 
best hospitals which that period afforded in 
England and on the Continent of Europe. 

But it was her own common sense that led 
her to use the Nature-taught panaceas of fresh 
air, sunshine, cleanliness, warmth, and the 
blessed healing of quiet. She preached disin¬ 
fectants and ventilation. 

A great ovation awaited Florence Nightin¬ 
gale on her return to England, which her 
modesty led her to deprecate. 

Longfellow wrote a poem to her, called 
“ Santa Filomema,” from a phrase in which she 
was fondly nicknamed “ the lady with the 
lamp.” 

A particularly felicitous anagram was made 
upon her name: “ Flit on, cheering angel.” 


“ HONEST FRIENDSHIP WITH ALL 
NATIONS, ENTANGLING AL¬ 
LIANCES WITH NONE ” 

THOMAS JEFFERSON, 1743-1826 
Said in his first inaugural address 

A tall, lanky man is coming quietly out of 
his lodgings in the city of Washington this 
Spring morning. His angular features are 
illuminated by hazel-flecked grey eyes that 
flash keen and vivacious. 

There is no distinguishing mark in his dress, 
which is of “ plain cloth.” No powdered 
lackeys attend him. He comes down the steps, 
mounts his horse, and rides slowly away. A 
few American gentlemen, his friends and fel¬ 
low-citizens, follow him. 

Thomas Jefferson is taking his unobtrusive 
way to the Capitol to be sworn in as third 
President of the United States. His two 
stately predecessors had been driven over the 
same path in coach and six. But the most con¬ 
spicuous apostle of democracy in America 
would have none of these elaborate doings. 

Reaching the Capitol, Mr. Jefferson dis¬ 
mounts and hitches his own horse to a near-by 

357 


358 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

fence. It is his intention to make his deeds 
consistent with the principles of the party 
which he leads. 

, Rarely in America has party feeling been 
more dangerously impassioned than in the 
three years preceding this election. In 1800 
the Republican candidates—the Democrats 
called themselves Republicans in those days— 
were Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr. 
They received equal electoral votes. It de¬ 
volved upon the House of Representatives, in 
accordance with the system which then ob¬ 
tained, to make one President, and the other 
Vice-President, which it had accordingly done. 

Mr. Jefferson believed in separation from all 
European politics with their local troubles and 
turmoils. He cherished firmly the doctrine of 
America for the Americans. Therefore any¬ 
thing which smacked of foreign customs or the 
usages pertaining to monarchical countries of¬ 
fended alike his convictions and his tastes. 

His first inaugural was a rhetorical and 
famous statement of democracy. No sentence 
in it rang more finely than the words: 

“ Honest friendship with all nations, en¬ 
tangling alliances with none.” 



“ HE CAN DANCE THE CANARIES ” 

SAID OF THE DANCING HORSE OF MR. 

BANK 

Sixteenth Centuby 

Dance? 

Of course I can dance, I—Morocco—the 
famous dancing horse. I am a gay young nag 
of moderate size, and my coat is a nice, glossy 
chestnut. 

My master is a Scotchman, one Mr. Banks. 
He has been exhibiting me in London lately. 
Chiefly in the yard of the Belle-Sauvage Inn, 
where there is excellent entertainment for man 
and beast. I promise you he has made a good 
thing out of it—with my help. 

I can erect myself upon my hind legs and 
leap about so that the crowd screams with de¬ 
light : 

“ He can dance the canaries.” 

Permit me to explain that the Canaries is 
the name of a most genteel dance. 

Also if coins are put into a glove, I tell how 
many there are, by raps of my foot. In like 
manner, I tell the numbers on the upper faces 
of a pair of dice. 


359 


360 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


I have been accused of being animated by a 
spirit. 

To tell the truth, my master gives me a 
signal each time—such as calling out the word 
“ Up ” or the like. See? 

Of course people do not know about the 
signal, so they think me a real mathematician. 
You remember that Shakespeare alluded to 
me. Concerning a certain problem in arith¬ 
metic, he said, “ The dancing horse will tell 
you.” 

It is the only thing that troubles me—this 
being thought to harbor a Satanic spirit. We 
nearly got into serious trouble over it, travel¬ 
ing in Franee, last year. 

Consider that case of a horse that was 
burned alive—horrible—at Lisbon, because his 
master had taught him to know the cards! 
Poor creature! He was supposed to employ 
Black Magic! 

It fairly haunts me! 

Some one has just told me, however, that 
my master is to become a vintner in Cheap- 
side. So I hope to have a safe, comfortable old 
age. 





“ THE GOOD ESTATE ” 

NICOLO DI RIENZI, MURDERED IN 1354? 

His name for his scheme of popular freedom 

A mob, viciously bent on murder, surges in 
the street below the balcony of the Capitol at 
Rome. A Roman rabble, excited and cruel 
with the easily aroused passions of a Southern 
race. 

Whom do they seek? 

A man who has been their idol—Nicolo di 
Rienzi. 

Born of humble parents, Rienzi from his 
earliest youth worked for the bettering of the 
common people. He was the champion of the 
people of Rome in their struggles against the 
oppressions of the nobles. By his advice and 
guidance they were enabled to obtain better 
terms from their tyrants the aristocrats. 

It is only a few years ago that Rienzi led 
another mob to this very street. He stood here 
on the balcony of the Capitol, and received by 
the people’s acclamations a ratification of his 
assumption of supreme power. The title of 
“ Tribune of Rome ” was revived from the days 

of the City’s ancient glories, for Rienzi. 

361 


362 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


How nobly he has vindicated their trust I 

Under his rule, peace and confidence have 
been established throughout the country, so 
that trade has flourished. “ The woods began 
to rejoice that they were no longer infested 
with robbers ”—as an old historian states. 

The people had at first striven with Rienzi 
to accomplish what he called 4 4 The good es¬ 
tate,’’ his name for his scheme of popular free¬ 
dom. Not only Rome was comprehended in 
it. For Rienzi was the first Roman patriot to 
dream of uniting all Italy in one grand federal 
republic. 

But now—now—what black ingratitude! 

What if Rienzi has been injudicious in his 
flaunting of regal state? What if he has been 
obliged by the exigencies of government to 
impose an unpopular tax? 

Oh! Need they break his heart before they 
kill him? 

Kill him? Aye, they stab him with myriad 
wounds, and burn the body of 

“ Rienzi—last of Romans! ” 


“ LIKE SPINNING INSECTS ” 

JOHANN KEPLER, DISTINGUISHED 
ASTRONOMER, 1571-1630 

His desceiption of comets 

“ Like spinning insects!” 

This is the description given to the tails of 
comets, by Johann Kepler. He was one of 
the Court astronomers of Rudolph II, Em¬ 
peror of Germany. 

We see a large room in the royal palace. 
Smoke from the huge fireplace drifts up to the 
time-blackened rafters, and the light is sub¬ 
dued and ghostly. Here are mysterious in¬ 
struments and appliances little understood by 
us ordinary folk—astrolabes; crucibles; crys¬ 
tals. There, the astrologers and alchemists 
study and experiment. 

By the great open casement Kepler spends 
his nights. He is at present absorbed in cal¬ 
culations on comets. 

He supposes that their tails are the result of 
the action of solar rays, which in traversing 
the mass of the comets bear off with them some 
of the subtler particles. These evanescent 

gleams form trains or veils across the sky. By 

363 


364 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


the process of waste thus set up, the comets 
finally dissolve into the ether and expire, “ like 
spinning insects.” 

Now enters Kepler’s patron, the Emperor 
Rudolph II. He has a clever, pale face, with 
a dark pointed beard and most aristocratic 
hands. He seats himself to listen to Kepler’s 
dissertation. 

Meanwhile, behind the Emperor, his cour¬ 
tiers exchange glances, half in derision, half in 
superstitious awe. 

Kepler’s wise, gentle talk flows on. 

The study of stars, he explains, is important 
because it is chiefly by their help that we may 
hope to solve the riddles of the universe. The 
apparent daily revolution of the celestial 
sphere, caused by the rotation of the earth, is 
the gauge by which we measure time. 

Time—its long reflections of past glories; its 
mirages of future facts. Time—which shows 
us space; space—which waits for time. 

Suppose the earth goes out some night in 
the tail of one of those “ spinning insects! ” 
It will have fulfilled its God-meant destiny— 
its time will be gathered up into Eternity. 




Johann Kepler. 

Distinguished Astronomer, 1571-1630. 





“IT IS I WHO PITY YOU!” 

PIERRE DU TERRAIL, CALLED BAYARD, 

1475-1524 

As HE DIED ON THE FIELD OF BATTLE 

We are betrayed! 

We—a small body of French knights and 
men-at-arms—are pursued by the Imperial 
army. We could light our enemies, but our 
friend turned traitor overwhelms us. 

Oh! That shot has done its cruel work. I 
reel in my saddle—help me down, but carry me 
not from the field of battle—for I must die 
upon it! 

What? Shall I mount you never again, my 
noble steed? I—Pierre du Terrail, called 
Bayard, after the castle where I was born, in 
sunny France—O my own Franee, whose vine¬ 
yards I shall never see again! Why—I was 
wont to vault into my saddle dressed in full 
armor. 

Oh, this weary war in Northern Italy! We 
might have won our way back to our own land, 
harassed as we were, had we not been betrayed. 

The traitor is the Duke of Bourbon. He 

was the High Constable of France, and had in 

365 






366 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


his knowledge the route of our troops, the dis¬ 
position of our ammunition, and all matters 
pertaining to the army. For gain he left his 
King; for worldly advantage he deserted his 
country. And he was my own familiar friend. 

What—the pain of my wound is bringing 
darkness and confusion. 

Shall I no more lay a lance in rest and tilt 
to win the smiles of lovely ladies? I—who led 
the youth of the Court in knightly exercises? 

A Cross—hold a Cross before my failing 
eyes. Nay, my sword will do. For high upon 
its hilt gleams the Blessed Symbol, the Crossed 
handle. 

Who is this that approaches? 

Our conqueror, he who was the Constable of 
France. He bends over me kindly. 

“You weep, sir, in pity, to see me thus? 
Nay, it is I who pity you. For I am only 
dying—and you must live—a traitor.” 



“ MY CHAIN WAS RETURNED ” 

MR. JEROME HORSEY, ENGLISH AMBAS¬ 
SADOR TO RUSSIA 
Latter part of Sixteenth Century 

Queen Anna Jagiellonka, widow of King 
Stephen Batory of Poland, is living at War¬ 
saw. 

* 

Mr. Horsey, who is traveling about Poland 
for his own amusement, writes of her, in his 
diary. Before the windows of her palace are 
placed pots and ranks of great carnations, roses 
and lilies. Also “ strange flowers ” of which 
he evidently does not know the names. 

Mr. Horsey walks quietly into the palace and 
comes to the room where the Queen is eating 
her supper, under a white silk canopy. 

Mr. Horsey stands among the other gentle¬ 
men and observes the grandeur. 

“ Every one his silver fork ”—he writes in 
astonishment. This was indeed an unusual 
mark of elegance for those times. 

He is fortunate enough to obtain a glass of 
sweet wine. There are also what he calls “ Por- 
traturs in sugar paste,” of lions, swans, and 
unicorns. Out of the bellies of these “ pleasant 

beastes ” are cut delectable slices. 

367 


368 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Presently, some of the courtiers who have 
known Mr. Horsey before spy him out. They 
recognize him, he writes complacently, by the 
excellent starching of his ruffles, which were 
made with silver wire, and “ starched in Eng¬ 
land! ” 

He is introduced to Queen Anna. 

Her Majesty graciously gossips with him. 

She has been told by a “ bold Jew ” that 
Mr. Horsey’s pearl chain is counterfeit—that 
it is made of fish-eyes, dried. She asks to see 
it. His precious chain. The good gentleman 
relinquishes it into her hands with sad misgiv¬ 
ings. Queens have been known to take fancies 
to things—and not return them! 

But he writes, in great relief: “My chain 
was returned, and no honor lost by the Queen’s 
sight thereof.” 

Then Queen Anna, woman-like, wants to 
know where he has his ruffles starched. 

Mr. Horsey takes the occasion loyally to 
praise the products of his own country—from 
its starch to its Queen—the great Elizabeth. 





“ I NOW TAKE LEAVE OF YOU ” 

GEORGE WASHINGTON, 1732-1799 

On parting with the officers of the 
Revolutionary Army 

A group of solemn and silent men are gath¬ 
ered in a room at Frances’. This is a tavern 
in the neighborhood of the Whitehall ferry 
across the Hudson River. At the foot of a 
flight of steps leading down to the water waits 
a barge. 

Presently into the room, with slow and 
stately steps, comes General George Washing¬ 
ton. His strong, aristocratic face shows deep 
and noble emotion. He has come to take leave 
of these men, who have been his officers during 
the Revolutionary War—just ended. He is 
on the point of returning his Commission to 
Congress, then in session at Annapolis. 

What memories bind these men together! 

Memories of agony, of hope, of toil, that 
were beaten out on the forge of years. Mem¬ 
ories that are rounded now in the perfect circle 
of completion. 

It is indisputable that George Washington 
refused a crown. 


369 


370 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

The thought of a monarchy was a logical 
one to his friends and fellow-soldiers, brought 
up as they all had been, under a King. To be 
sure they had just freed their country from 
one King—but here was another to their hand 
whose rule would be vastly different, and more 
benign. 

It was George Washington’s own unselfish¬ 
ness and clear-sighted judgment that gave a 
peremptory end to the thought. 

He speaks now: 

“ With a heart full of love and gratitude, I 
now take leave of you.” 

To each man he gives a brother’s embrace. 

The manly tenderness of these veterans can 
find no further utterance in words. In silence 
General Washington leaves the room, followed 
by his officers—for the last time. 

They pass through a corps of Light Infantry 
to the steps. 

George Washington enters the barge; he 
turns and lifts his hat in silent farewell. With 
silence, the salute is returned. 

They had thought of him as if he were an 
ordinary man — 

“ —tempting him with a crown.” 


“MY DEATH WILL TAKE PLACE 
THREE DAYS BEFORE THAT 
OF YOUR MAJESTY ” 

SAID BY SOOTHSAYER TO TIBERIUS 
CJESAR, 42 b. c.-37 a. d. 

An Emperor—in all the gorgeous pomp of 
his regal state—Tiberius Caesar, Emperor of 
Rome. 

Soldiers guard his audience chamber with 
the zeal of military alertness. Wise and in¬ 
fluential statesmen hang upon the Emperor’s 
slightest word; and gay young nobles watch 
his slightest gesture. 

Into the midst of all this splendor comes a 
quiet figure, in dark robes. Incongruous! Yet 
there is something arresting about this man. 
Perhaps because strange symbols decorate his 
dress; or perhaps a mysterious force really 
emanates from his flashing eyes. 

The courtiers drew back fearfully, and 
whisper to each other — 

It is Thrasullus, the marvelous Soothsayer. 

Thrasullus is known to stand at present un¬ 
der the displeasure of the Emperor. For he 
has been prophesying things uncomplimentary 

and annoying to his Majesty. 

371 


372 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


Displeasure indeed! 

Tiberius thunders forth a sudden, cruel sen¬ 
tence. Thrasullus is to be dragged forth and 
thrown over the rocks into the sea. 

The courtiers shudder. 

Is it the power of the Soothsayer which re¬ 
veals to them a sight of tall, beetling crags, 
where sea-birds swoop and scream, against 
which silver and lavender mist swirls up from 
the raging breakers below—far, far below? 

To be dashed headlong from such a cliff! 

The Soothsayer bows quietly. But as the 
soldiers approach and seize him, he speaks— 
just a few words. 

An amazing change comes over the Em¬ 
peror’s brow. He starts convulsively forward 
and stays the soldiers with an impulsive ges¬ 
ture. 

No—no—Thrasullus is not to be killed—he 
is to live, to be nobly cared for at the Em¬ 
peror’s expense so long as life can be coaxed 
to remain in his old body. 

What on earth did the Soothsayer say to so 
revoke the course of Imperial design? 

Merely the short sentence: 

“ My death will take place three days before 
that of your Majesty.” 




“ CLAD IN PAGE’S DRESS ” 


SAID OF JACQUELINE, COUNTESS OF 
HOLLAND, 1401-1436 

On her flight from Ghent 

A lovely and unhappy lady in prison! 

A young and charming Princess held in 
durance vile by her enemies. To the rescue! 

Jacqueline, Countess of Holland, was in¬ 
volved, during her entire reign, in quarrels 
with her rebellious subjects and with her kins¬ 
man, Philip, Duke of Burgundy. 

At one period Burgundy succeeded in help¬ 
ing to separate Jacqueline from her then hus¬ 
band, the English Duke of Gloucester. For 
the lovely Jacqueline fitted on the yoke of 
matrimony four times! 

Burgundy promptly immured the Countess 
—or Duchess, as you prefer—in the fortress of 
Grafenstein, in Ghent. Its ancient walls were 
black and formidable, and there were dark, 
underground passages. 

The pleasantest tradition connected with 
Grafenstein is that some of its rooms were used 
as studios by the famous artists, the two Van 
Eycks. 


373 


374 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

Through prison walls whispers have been 
known to penetrate. 

In some mysterious way, two gentlemen of 
Holland, whose names were Spierinck and 
Vos, were able to communicate with their im¬ 
prisoned Lady. Disguised as merchants, they 
loitered about Grafenstein until they managed 
to smuggle in a bundle of clothes. 

“ Clad in page’s dress,” Jacqueline slipped 
out an unguarded door. She walked quietly 
through the streets of Ghent. 

Just outside one of the city gates, two mer¬ 
chants awaited her—with an extra horse from 
which they had removed their packs of wares. 

Away—through the night they galloped. 

Until dawn they rode. Then found them¬ 
selves on the banks of a river, where a boat 
lay waiting for them—hidden in the rushes. 
Again, Jacqueline changed, to the disguise of 
a burgher dame this time. 

After four anxious days of arduous travel 
the errant Princess and Knights arrived safe 
on the territory of one of Jacqueline’s loyal 
nobles. 

It is comforting to know that the poor, tired 
lady was here furnished with “ garments be¬ 
fitting her rank! ” 


“SOLDIERS, IF THERE IS ONE 
AMONG YOU WHO WOULD KILL 
HIS EMPEROR—HERE I AM!” 

NAPOLEON I, EMPEROR OF THE FRENCH, 

1769-1821 

Ills GREETING TO THE ARMY ON HIS ESCAPE FROM 

Elba 

Six thousand soldiers drawn up in battle 
array. Their muskets are loaded and the 
bayonets form a glittering, impassable wall. 

Slowly approaching them is a small column 
of men, led by an extraordinary figure, Na¬ 
poleon Bonaparte! 

It would be difficult to say wherein lay the 
power of his very name. Children in far-away 
lands are being frightened into meek silence by 
its sound: Napoleon Bonaparte. A great sol¬ 
dier? A great statesman? More and less than 
both. 

He halts his column now, at a hundred paces 
from the hostile army. He dismounts and ad¬ 
vances on foot. 

How did he get here? England and her 
Allies thought him securely imprisoned on the 
Island of Elba. But he has managed to slip 

away, cross the water, and land upon a lonely 

375 




376 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

part of the French coast, near Cannes. There a 
few loyal friends joined him. 

Now, he confronts the French army—his 
army. 

He is dressed in his well-known garb. A 
grey overcoat; high military boots; a cocked 
hat. With folded arms he stands impassive. 

Every musket is brought up to the shoulder 
and aimed at the breast of Napoleon. The 
order is given to fire. 

Each soldier knew that should his musket be 
the one to send death to the dauntless breast 
of Napoleon, he would receive great personal 
reward from the royal family of the Bourbons. 

Not a musket is fired! 

Then Napoleon speaks: 

“ Soldiers, if there is one among you who 
would kill his Emperor—here I am! ” 

In mad enthusiasm, the soldiers of France 
fling down their muskets and rush forward to 
embrace the knees of Napoleon. Tears, shouts, 
a tumult of joyful welcome. 

“ Vive L'Empereur! ” 

Napoleon’s “ bloodless victory ” is complete; 
the hearts of the army are his. With these 
men and their comrades, he is enabled to ap¬ 
proach Waterloo. 


“ WITH A HIGH HAND ” 

SAID OF THE KNIGHTS OF CHARLES, DUKE 
OF CALABRIA, IN 1326 

A fine cavalcade is traveling through Italy 
in this year of 1326. We will join it. 

It is the Escort of Charles, Duke of Cala¬ 
bria. This wise and good ruler is on his way 
from Naples to Florence, which latter city he 
has promised to govern for ten years—accord¬ 
ing to the earnest request of its inhabitants. 

Princes and dukes are we, and knights of 
high degree—with our wives and children and 
our retainers to an amazing number. There 
are 1,500 sumpter-mules carrying baggage! 

The gentlemen ride horses, “ richly capari¬ 
soned.” Which means that the horses are al¬ 
most smothered in long saddle clothes and hung 
with glittering chains—how the poor beasts 
must hate it! Hate, too, the heavy and brilliant 
armor which we wear, and the flapping cloaks 
of cloth-of-gold. 

The ladies, for the most part, ride in litters, 
or in springless chariots. Their dresses and 
mantles are strictly determined, as to material 

and color, by their rank—cloth-of-gold or of 

377 




378 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

' * 

silver; velvets and silks of gayest crimsons, 
purples or greens. 

Each knight has three squires. One carries 
the knight’s helmet on his saddle; a second 
leads his war charger. The third holds his 
master’s standard on high. Hence arises the 
saying: 

“ With a high hand.” 

Arriving at Naples, we receive a splendid 
reception—the streets are strewn with flowers. 
Wonderful entertainments, banquets and balls. 

But a sad difficulty presents itself. 

By a sumptuary law—one of those govern¬ 
ing the wearing of clothes—the ladies of Flor¬ 
ence are forbidden to wear a certain kind of 
head-dress. It is a band of woven white and 
yellow silk, and is so becoming! What a hor¬ 
rid, mean law! 

One of the first acts of Duke Charles is 
—most tactfully—to repeal this sumptuary 
statute. 

He knows hereafter that the feminine por¬ 
tion of the community is firmly for him! 



“ TAKE UP OUR SISTER’S 
KERCHIEF ” 

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, 1564-1616 

Two figures confront each other. 

One, a King, whose robes of tinsel flaunt in 
the narrow limits of a stage. A stage where 
the machinery and appliances are restricted to 
the resources of a primitive period. Where 
even the place of the play’s occurrence is in¬ 
dicated merely by its name painted on a board. 

The other, a Queen, whose power is prac¬ 
tically absolute over an important part of the 
earth: Elizabeth of England. 

She and her brilliant courtiers sit so close to 
the actors as to mingle with them. 

Was it at the Globe, or at Blackfriars, those 
two delightful theaters of old London? Was 
it in a stately hall of one of the royal palaces? 
Tradition, which tells the story, does not say. 

The play proceeds, to the delight of the en¬ 
thralled audience. Little do the spectators care 
for the lack of artificial sunlight and painted 
scenery. They listen breathless to the kindling 

words, and watch them translated into living, 

379 


380 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


flaming action. For it is William Shakespeare 
who is both playwright and actor King. 

Shakespeare! Whose name is a Fairy 
Prince in the dullest tale. 

Queen Elizabeth was always gay and au¬ 
dacious in the hoaxes which she played upon 
her courtiers. 

Now, as Shakespeare approaches close to her 
chair of state, Elizabeth deliberately drops her 
kerchief—to see what he will do! 

Surely, Shakespeare cannot pass by and let 
the Queen pick up her own handkerchief. On 
the other hand, he is too much an actor to step 
out of his assumed character. How can he act? 
The Court watches eagerly. 

The King of the stage pauses. Then he mo¬ 
tions to one of his own attendants and says 
quietly: 

“ Take up our sister’s kerchief! ” 

It was Shakespeare who wrote: 

“ All the world’s a stage, 

And all the men and women merely players.” 


“CONSIDER THE MATTER, NOT 
SOLELY AS A STEP 
NECESSARY ” 

KING LOUIS XIV OF FRANCE, 1638-1715 
In letter to his fiancee, Marie Therese 

A handsome King is so very handsome! 

There are delightful reports of the beauty 
and charm of the young French King, Louis 
XIV. One of his admiring subjects declares: 

“ I do not think any one could possibly be 
handsomer.” 

These reports reach the Court of Spain and 
inflame the heart of a youthful Princess there, 
the Infanta or oldest daughter of the King of 
Spain, Marie Therese. 

The mother of Marie Therese, Queen of 
Spain, was a French woman, and her aunt, 
Queen of France, was a Spanish woman. What 
more natural than that she should dream of 
marrying the King of France? 

But it is said that Louis, “ The God-Given,” 
“ The Magnificent,” is to marry a Princess of 
the House of Savoy. Marie Therese is in de¬ 
spair. 

Hurrah! Diplomats are vigorously at work 

381 


382 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

on the matter. The young Infanta delicately 
intimates to the flustered statesmen that her 
desires outrun their deliberations. 

Pressure is brought to bear upon the French 
King. Louis is always ready for a love affair, 
even if it is only with his own bride! He writes 
romantically to Marie Therese, and begs her to 
consult her own heart and try to “ consider the 
matter not solely as a step necessary for the 
welfare of our respective States.” 

This is being a King and a lover indeed! 

The Infanta crosses the frontier between 
Spain and France with the retinue of a great 
Princess and the trust and joy of a bride in 
love with her bridegroom. 

Marie Therese could speak no French. 
Louis but little Spanish. Yet their marriage 
was at first one of true love. Tenderness and 
passion were neither lacking. 

We do not have to follow and see the sadness 
that came later. 

We read that in only a few months the young 
wife felt the first pricks of that jealousy which 
was “ never again to leave her.” 


“VERY GOOD CHESTNUT-TREE 
AND MEADOW LAND ” 

FROM REPORT OF COMMITTEE, AP¬ 
POINTED BY THE GENERAL COURT 
OF MASSACHUSETTS 
In 1667 

A committee was sent from Boston in 1667 
to investigate a place about midway between 
the seacoast and the older settlements on the 
Connecticut River. This was with a view to 
establishing a village there. 

The committee reported favorably that 
there was: 

“ Very good chestnut-tree and meadow 
land.” 

A deed was obtained from the Indians to a 
tract of land about eight miles square, for 
“ twelve pounds lawful money.” The first 
hamlet was named Quinsigamond, that being 
the Indian name of the beautiful lake bound¬ 
ing it on the east. 

But, alas, this settlement was attacked by 
hostile Indians during the raging of King 
Philip’s War, and burned. 

Although the power of the savages was, 
after this, temporarily crushed, it was not an¬ 
nihilated. Braves still lurked in the pathless 

383 


384 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

forests to the west and north, ready to pounce 
upon isolated hamlets. 

Again a settlement was attempted, to be 
called this time Worcester. 

One of its prominent men was Digory Ser- 
gent, or Serjent. He was a bold and sturdy 
pioneer who built himself a “ garrison house ” 
on one of Worcester’s lovely hills, surrounded 
by his lot of eighty acres of “ very good chest- 
nut-tree land.” 

In 1702, the Indians were known to be ap¬ 
proaching Worcester. Its inhabitants fled— 
all but Digory Serjent. 

He vigorously refused to be scared away 
from his comfortable dwelling. 

When a punitive party of Marlborough men 
reached Worcester in pursuit of a band of mur¬ 
dering Indians, they found a tragedy. 

The door of Digory Serjent’s strong forti¬ 
fied house had been broken in. The owner was 
stretched in blood on the floor, and “ the place 
desolate ”—his wife and children carried away. 

Mrs. Serjent was murdered. Two of the 
children were afterwards redeemed. 

But—strangest part of the story—the chil¬ 
dren preferred to remain with their Indian cap- 
tors, and later adopted their habits! 






“ FAREWELL TO MY YOUTH! ” 

FRANCIS JOSEPH, EMPEROR OF AUSTRIA, 

1830-1916 

On first being hailed as “ Your Majesty ” 

Only eighteen, and suddenly called from the 
concerns and occupations of care-free youth to 
be Emperor of vast domains! 

On the morning of December 1st, 1848, the 
young Archduke Francis Joseph of Austria is 
studying diligently—a stiff lesson on ecclesias¬ 
tical law and its intricacies. 

There are so many things which it has been 
considered necessary for him to know! The 
languages and idioms current in the far-away 
places over which the Austrian Empire’s in¬ 
fluence extends, such as Hungarian, Czech, 
Magyar, and Slavonic, to say nothing of 
French and Italian and English, the last of 
which the Princeling finds most difficult of all. 

Fortunately for his own youthful joy, Fran¬ 
cis Joseph has been allowed to cultivate his 
skill in chamois-hunting and all out-of-door 
exercises. 

Quiet reigns in the palace; nothing particu¬ 
lar happens all day—and the young Archduke 
studies faithfully. 


385 


386 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

But the next morning! All the dignitaries 
and grandees of the realm begin to assemble 
in the outer rooms of the palace. They have 
received imperial summons “ to attend,” and 
no one knows why. The excited and expectant 
courtiers whisper and question. What is hap¬ 
pening? 

Suddenly, out from the throne-room comes 
Francis Joseph—Archduke no longer, but Em¬ 
peror of Austria—just made so by the formal 
abdication of his uncle, the Emperor Ferdi¬ 
nand I. 

We see Francis Joseph stand—a slender 
youth, tall, and of a very earnest, grave man¬ 
ner. For an instant he pauses before the be¬ 
wildered courtiers. Then, with one attendant, 
he goes quietly to receive the homage of his 
troops. 

Everywhere he is acclaimed, rapturously, 
for rarely has a sovereign been more popular, 
and more deservedly so. 

As one of his generals wrote: “ It is a grand 
thing to be able to be enthusiastic about one’s 
Emperor.” 

But we hear Francis Joseph himself sigh to a 
friend, who first hails him as “ Your Majesty 

“ Farewell to my youth! ” 


“ A LITTLE GIRL LIKE THAT! ” 


RACHEL FELIX, FAMOUS ACTRESS, 

1820—1857 

Said of her by box-office clerk 

Humph! Free admission to the theater in¬ 
deed! 

“ A little girl like that! ” 

So grumbled the box-office clerk of the 
Comedie Fran 9 aise. 

It is the Jewess Rachel Felix, and she is so 
poor that she has only one dress, a little ging¬ 
ham, which she has to wash and iron over-night. 
The box-office clerk tries to relegate her to the 
gallery, as she is not sufficiently ornamental 
for any other place. 

Take care, my friend, warns one of the ac¬ 
tors, that little girl will some day be in a posi¬ 
tion to lose you your job, by merely remark¬ 
ing that she does not fancy the color of your 
hair! 

We, able to see farther than the clerk, realize 
that this prophecy comes true. 

Rachel, by virtue of her marvelous acting, 
becomes the idol of Paris; of the whole theater¬ 
going world. Her triumphs extend to every 

387 


388 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


capital of Kurope and to America. Princes 
lay their hearts and their jewels at her feet. 

She was not preeminently beautiful, but had 
an exceedingly expressive, haunting sort of 
beauty. Her brow was prominent, and under 
it blazed her dark, deep-set eyes. The modula¬ 
tions of her voice thrilled her hearers, as it re¬ 
corded every shade of passion in the Tragedies 
in which her genius was particularly and oft- 
enest displayed. 

At the height of her success we read of her 
house—which was like a palace. That it had 
domed ceilings and lofty windows and whole 
avenues of flower-pots. That she ate off solid 
silver plates and slept in a bed draped with 
priceless purple curtains. 

Then comes the third dramatic period of her 
life. 

Bereft of all joj^s by fatal illness, she is dy¬ 
ing young—almost alone. 

“ In the shadow of the Pyramids,” where she 
has gone seeking warmth and—vainly—health 
—she writes to a friend: 

“ I look upon twenty centuries buried in the 
sands. Behold—I am no more than a shadow 
which passes—which has passed! ” 





“ PASS ON AS THOU WERT WONT ” 
SIR JAMES DOUGLAS 
Fighting against the Moors, about 1329 

Press forward—forward still against the 
Pagan foe! 

Knightly swords are crossing, in lines resem¬ 
bling those of the Sacred Symbol for which 
they fight. Knightly plumes are tossing above 
the tumult of the battle, as pure sea-foam floats 
above the fury of the waves. 

Sir James Douglas leads the furious charge. 
Close-bound to his body lies a silver case. It 
holds the embalmed heart of his King and 
dearest friend, Robert Bruce. 

When King Robert Bruce of Scotland lay 
upon his death-bed, he lamented, weeping ex¬ 
ceedingly. For he had not been able to fulfil 
his vow to assist in the Crusades. Therefore, 
he besought Sir James Douglas to carry his 
heart to Jerusalem and bury it there, that its 
beating and its burning might be at rest. 

So Douglas struggles to obey this dear be¬ 
quest. 

But the Moors—the cruel Pagans—are 

389 


390 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

gaining upon the Christians. Their ranks close 
in about the Knights of Scotland. 

Douglas is surrounded by the enemies’ 
horsemen and perceives that he cannot extri¬ 
cate himself. Escape is impossible. 

In desperation he takes in his hand the pre¬ 
cious heart in its silver casket. He throws it as 
far as possible before him, among the crowd¬ 
ing, surging Moors, with the cry: 

“ Pass on as thou wert wont; I will follow 
or die! ” 

He follows—and is immediately struck to 
earth. 

His dead body was found, after the battle, 
by his friends. True to his trust, he was lying 
over the heart of Bruce, still shielding it with 
his body. 

Bruce’s heart was carried back to Scotland, 
and placed under the Altar of Melrose Abbey. 

The family of Douglas from that time have 
worn in their Armorial Bearings a Heart im¬ 
perially crowned. 

“ The good Knight’s sword is rust — 

And his bones are dust — 

And his soul is with the saints, we trust.” 



A Young Knight Kneeling. 

























































•• 



























“ AUGUSTUS!” 

TITLE GIVEN BY POPE LEO III, IN 800, TO 

CHARLEMAGNE, KING OF THE FRANKS 

St. Peter’s in Rome on Christmas Day long 
ago. 

The beautiful old church is crowded with 
worshipers who, for all the devotion which they 
pay to the stately ritual, cannot help casting 
surreptitious glances at one of their number. 

He is so grandly dressed, and has such a 
splendid retinue. 

For it is a great monarch who says his 
prayers here to-day. Charlemagne, King of 
the Franks, the people of far-away Northern 
Europe. Of late years Charlemagne’s rule has 
extended also far to the South, until he is 
sovereign of vast domains. 

The Service proceeds. 

The sunlight shines through stained-glass 
windows, to throw flecks of green and saffron 
and blue on kneeling figures. Clouds of in¬ 
cense soften the light round the high Altar 
where candles gleam. Voices chant in melo¬ 
dious, monotonous cadences the holy words, 

391 


392 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

and now and then a bell strikes, like the beat 
of a heart thrilling keenly. 

The Service is over. 

Charlemagne rises to his feet and turns to 
leave the sacred edifice, when he is stopped by 
a sudden message from the Pope. 

What is this? The people nudge each other 
and gape in amazement as His Holiness ap¬ 
proaches the King—with a crown! 

Charlemagne is as much surprised as any 
one. He stands, his big, robust frame drawn 
up in commanding dignity, but he sinks humbly 
down when Leo motions him to kneel again. 

“ Augustus! ” The Pope’s voice rings out, 
as he places the crown on Charlemagne’s brow. 

Emperor of the East and West—Emperor 
of the Holy Roman Empire—Augustus. 

Thus was the proud title revived again, 
which had been worn by the Roman Csesars, by 
which Constantine had reigned. 

We can see the joy of the surging crowds in 
Rome that Christmas Day and hear their ac¬ 
clamations. They are thankful to have a set¬ 
tled ruler. He will protect them from the 
heathen hordes; he will guard Christendom. 


I 


“ BELOW THE SKIRT, TROUSERS 
MODERATELY FULL ” 

AMELIA JENKS BLOOMER, DRESS 
REFORMER, 1818-1894 

What are the sweet creatures up to now? 

Pretty dears! We men have always sub¬ 
mitted to all their whims in the way of fashion, 
and loyally admired them. And how absurd 
some of them have been! Down through the 
ages the women march, in every monstrosity 
of cumbrous skirts and hampering sleeves. 
Hats and caps and wreaths and turbans—there 
have been no end to the head-dresses which we 
have been called upon to compliment. 

But this last fashion is really too much! 

Hear its originator, Mrs. Amelia Jenks 
Bloomer, as she describes its essential portion: 

“ Below the skirt, trousers moderately full.” 

Ye gods—have we men of America, in this 
year of grace 1851, really come to this? That 
at a ball in Lowell, Massachusetts, such a cos¬ 
tume appears! At a ball, mind you, when, if 
ever, one might think women would like to ap¬ 
pear as feminine and dainty as possible! 

Here they come. 


393 




394 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

The baggy trousers, called “ bloomers,” are 
neatly gathered about slim ankles with elastic 
bands. Above swing and flounce skirts hewn 
of much of their fullness. 

The fair wearers declare how comfortable 
they are, free to walk about. They insist that 
bloomers are “ healthy ” because they do not 
drag on the sidewalk to pick up its refuse. 

They also try to enlist their husbands and 
fathers in favor of the new style because it has 
comparatively little material and is therefore 
economical! 

The “ strong-minded ” ones among the ladies 
need no such arguments. They boldly assert 
that they like bloomers because they are 
“ masculine! ” 

Mrs. Bloomer, who is the “ Editress ” of a 
magazine, writes vigorously in favor of dress 
reform! The joke of it is that her paper bears 
the effeminate, die-away name of “ Lily.” 

We need not have worried. 

Bloomers carried their own doom. They 
were not becoming. 


“ I WILL PUSH ON IF WE HAVE TO 
EAT THE LEATHER OF 
THE RIGGING ” 

FERDINAND MAGELLAN, 1480-1521 

On HIS VOYAGE CIRCUMNAVIGATING THE GLOBE 

Round the world? 

Aye! For our commander, Ferdinand 
Magellan, vows he is going to sail east by the 
way of the west—that he is going to circum¬ 
navigate the earth. 

We set sail with him from Spain, nearly 
two hundred and eighty gallant sailors and 
gentleman adventurers, in five ships finely 
equipped. 

Across the Atlantic we reach the shores of 
the New World, near Pernambuco. Then— 
down the unknown coast of South America. 
Miles and miles and miles of arduous toil and 
great hardships. In and out of so many un¬ 
charted bays and estuaries that their memories 
become merged in confused mirages of rocks 
and water and trees. 

By scenes of unbelievable beauty, where the 
clear, balmy air melts into the sunlit sea. 

By scenes of inexpressible horror, where at 

the foot of precipices raging waves gnash their 

395 



396 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 

teeth on our comrades’ bones, and those who 
escape are tortured to death by the natives. 

Harassed by starvation; harassed by storms; 
harassed by scurvy; harassed by bitter quarrels 
among ourselves. 

We gain so far south that we lose sight of 
the North Star—that comfort of mariners. 
But courageously Magellan holds on for what 
he called the “ Pole Anartike.” 

At last—at last! We sail through a strait 
three hundred and sixty miles long—to be 
named hereafter the Strait of Magellan—out 
upon an ocean of steady and gentle winds 
which our commander christens the Pacific. 

But our provisions have given out. The ex¬ 
pedition fulfils Magellan’s declaration: 

“ I will push on if we have to eat the leather 
of the rigging.” 

It was on the island of Mactan that Magel¬ 
lan was murdered by natives—after three 
years of sailing. 

His marvelous task was, however, accom¬ 
plished. For he had already been to this longi¬ 
tude before—from the other side. Therefore 
he had circumnavigated the globe. 

Only one of his five ships reached Spain, the 
Vittoria; and less than forty men returned. 




“ THE TROOPERS IN LINE—THE 
OFFICERS IN POSITION ” 

REPORT CONCERNING FIGHT WHERE 
GENERAL CUSTER AND HIS MEN 
WERE ANNIHILATED IN 1876 

We hear it is only a small band of Indians, 
there near the Little Big Horn River. 

We ride jauntily forward, this lovely June 
weather, through the wild, picturesque West¬ 
ern country. We—and our beautiful horses— 
are the Seventh Cavalry of the United States 
Army. We are acting as the advanced guard 
of a force sent against the Sioux—the red, 
scalping devils—and their allies. 

The keen young eyes of our commander, 
General Custer, flash beneath his wide cam¬ 
paigning hat. Gallant and brave, he is adored 
bv his men. 

As we near the point where the Indians are 
rallying, General Custer divides our regiment 
into three parties, the better to surround the 
savages. He himself, with our fine troops, 
forms the center column. 

Fatal tragedy! 

For suddenly—Indians—Indians in hordes 

—nearlv three thousand, as will be afterwards 

397 





398 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


proved—fall upon our unsupported center 
column. 

We dismount; our trained horses drop 
down, and each man crouches behind a living 
barricade. 

The Indians on their wiry ponies utter 
curdling whoops and swoop upon us in a wide 
circle. Their bodies are oiled and painted, and 
feathers stream back over their shoulders. 

They are all armed with Winchesters—God! 
Where do they get them? 

One after another of our men cries out, to 
roll over in his death agony. 

Faster and faster gallop the yelling Indians, 
closing in under a cloud of dust. 

Where are our rescuing comrades? 

This is no question of surrender to an honor¬ 
able foe. Those of us who are taken alive, the 
Indians will kill with fiendish torments. 

More men die—and horses — 

Our brains are reeling—but we hold to our 
soldier’s tradition. When our mutilated bodies 
are found, they will be facing the enemy — 

“ The troopers in line—the officers in posi¬ 
tion.” 

The Indians are circling nearer — 

The rest is silence. 



“ MY VOICES COME TRULY FROM 

HEAVEN ” 

JEANNE D’ARC, KNOWN AS “ THE MAID OF 
ORLEANS,” 1412-1431 

Burned ! 

Burned to death at the stake! 

Can we face this scene? 

Here, in the streets of the French city of 
Rouen, in this year of our Lord 1431, we stand 
appalled. The crowds about us surge slowly 
back and forth, moved by shudders of horror. 

High above us rises the funeral pile. Fagots 
of wood, heaped upon each other in combustible 
fashion, waiting but the torch of the execu¬ 
tioner to flame devouringly. 

Fastened to the stake is a young girl—barely 
twenty years of age. Jeanne d’Arc, La Pucelle 
—or The Maid of Orleans. 

What has she done to deserve this hideous 
fate? Believing herself inspired by the heav¬ 
enly Voices of Saint Michael, Saint Catherine, 
and Saint Margaret, she has led the armies of 
France to victory, and consecrated her King. 

Taken prisoner at last by the English, 

Jeanne was delivered over by them to the In- 

399 



400 HISTORY’S MOST FAMOUS WORDS 


quisition and condemned as a heretic and a 
witch. 

Now—now—no—do not look! 

Red flames begin to hiss and lap along the 
edges of the pyre. 

Jeanne speaks gently to the courageous 
priests who, forgetful of themselves, are press¬ 
ing close beside her with the Crucifix; she bids 
them descend. 

The flames rise higher. 

What thoughts of the oak wood at her na¬ 
tive village of Domremy! Coolness from its 
green shadows touches her lips; dampness from 
its soft mosses bathes her feet. 

True to her convictions Jeanne cries: 

“ My voices come truly from heaven.” 

Stifling smoke and flames swirl upward to 
float the girlish form in a wondrous halo. The 
very air becomes rarefied—earth fades in mist 
away. 

Again we hear Jeanne—she calls trium¬ 
phantly upon the Sacred Name. 

Then—silence—save for the crackling of the 
flames. 

Trembling, gasping, the crowd disperses. 

“ From the crimes committed in Thy Name, 
O Christ deliver us! ” 















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